Deviant
by planetblue
Summary: He pissed me off and then he turned me on. Spectacularly.
1. Chapter 1

**Hi all! I'm honored to have had a bit of a team behind me this time around:**

**Carrie ZM: She awesomely stepped up to beta when I was in need, and has become a true friend. Any mistakes you find are mine, I tend to tweak long after I should stop.**

**Vancouver-Canuck-Girl: She acted as pre-reader when I was completely insecure and made me feel better with her hilarious comments and unwavering support.**

**Mkystich: Banner maker extraordinaire. I mean come on, have you seen it?**

**Grabadietcoke: My friend, my sounding board, my 4eva**

**Chapter 1**

"Who wants another mother fucking shot!" I raise the bottle of whiskey over my head, high above the sweaty and raucous crowd below me. My black boots scuff the top of the copper covered bar, leaving thick rubbery streaks behind.

I lean over and empty the contents of my bottle into open mouths, not bothering to lift it between pours, making a sloshy line across my patron's cheeks.

I slap the big guy on the end across the top of his head and tell him to move the fuck on, an order which he smartly obeys. The crowd loves it.

"Iz! Iz! Iz!" They chant over the loud music, trying to get my attention and the free liquor I have possession of. One guy gets handsy, so I flatten that hand with my foot and move on back down the bar.

Emmett reaches out to help me down and I jump to the floor. "Jesus Iz, you really worked them up tonight!" My brother wraps his arm around my shoulders and gives me a squeeze. He tosses me a big grin and returns to his post at the end of the bar, protecting Angie and I from the crowd.

Angie hands me a shot and we clink, downing the whiskey to more shouting from the crowd that loves us. We know how to put on a show here at The Steel Horse. The tips are phenomenal.

Also doesn't hurt that we're practically naked. The few parts that are covered are encased in black leather.

* * *

I reach for my cup and startle when a hand darts out and grabs it before I do.

"Excuse me, I think that's my latte." I look at the guy, fully expecting him to realize his mistake and place my cup back down on the counter of my favorite coffee joint.

"Latte? I would never order a latte." He looks at the cup and then to me, a look of disgust on his face.

I raise one eyebrow at him in disbelief at his rudeness. "I'm sure you didn't. Therefore, it's mine." I reach out my hand for him to hand it over.

"I think you're mistaken." He holds the cup up and away from me, out of my reach. "This is my black coffee."

I'm now wide eyed, staring at my cup in his obnoxious hand. "Why would I mistake a latte for black coffee?"

"I don't know, but you are." His smugness and tight grip on my cup has me seeing red.

"Excuse me? It clearly has non-fat, grande, soy chai latte with a half shot of espresso and no foam written on the side of it." I point to the description written on the cup in black marker.

The smug jerk looks at it for a moment, reading. He looks back at me and frowns. "If you're lactose intolerant and can't handle a full dose of caffeine, maybe you should just order water."

Unbelievable. I narrow my eyes and grab the cup from his hand. "What I drink doesn't concern you."

"It does when I have to wait for your pretentious drink to be made when all I want is an _un_pretentious cup of black coffee." He says, his green eyes blazing.

I turn and start walking towards the back of the shop where the tables are. "Asshole."

"I heard that." He snaps.

I turn my head to the side and bark, "I meant you to!" I continue towards my usual table.

"Oh my god, what a jerk." I huff while throwing my briefcase onto the bench beside me.

Katie, one of the baristas busy wiping down tables, looks around our close vicinity and whispers. "Who?"

"Over there. In line. Douchebag suit guy."

Katie cranes her neck and searches the front of the kitschy coffee shop. "You mean the guy with the mustache?" When I look at him again and confirm, she grins. "He's kind of hot, I like the facial hair. Very Dave Grohl."

Looking at him again, I contemplate what she's said. "It's just a mustache that's too long on the sides. It wants to be a goatee but can't." I shrug not wanting to admit I like the Fu Manchu 'stache.

"I don't know, it's pretty cool. Johnny Depp wears the look well."

"Well, he's no Dave or Johnny, his personality sucks." I exclaim and take a sip of my drink.

She smiles at me. "So, what's on your agenda for today?"

"I have a lecture at eleven and then a screening at two. Should be an easy day."

"Mmmhmm. Watching porn with thirty or more people. Easy."

"It's not porn."

"Sure it's not. You just have a degree that allows you to call it an educational tool. Not that I'm complaining, your class was the only one I ever stayed awake through."

"Very funny." I smirk at my ex-student and sip my drink, scanning the front of the coffee shop. I watch Manchu get his drink and turn to leave. As he's walking through the door, he looks back and raises his cup to me, with a very annoying smirk on his face. I try not to flip him off in return.

"Are you still meeting Alice for dinner tonight? She's got me babysitting starting at six."

I relax my sneer and turn my attention back to Katie. "Yeah, I'll be there. I have to be at Emmett's though at nine, it's Friday. So six is perfect."

"Does that mean you're picking her up dressed in leather again?" Katie grins.

"No, I'll go home and change first or change at the bar. Don't worry, you won't have to see more of me than you do now."

Katie scans my attire, black dress pants, red long sleeved blouse. "You know you're hot like that, but you look nice like this too."

"Yeah well, it's a job requirement. Okay, let me go or I'll be late." I smile at Katie and gather my things, making my way out into the temperamental weather that is spring in Nashville. Today I'm lucky; it's a beautiful seventy-six degrees with no rain in sight.

* * *

"Got any hot friends coming tonight?" Emmett asks me through the bathroom door in his office while I'm changing out of my stuffy professor persona and into kick ass biker chick.

"You ask me that every weekend, and every weekend it's the same answer. No."

"I don't understand why you don't try to get more hot friends. Think of it as a thank you for your employment."

Checking to make sure everything important is covered, I exit the bathroom. "I love you Emmett, but I'm not going to be your pimp. Sorry. Besides, you begged me to take this job, you're lucky I decided to make it permanent." I rub my hand on his broad shoulder and make my way out of the office, Emmett following closely behind.

"Pimp? That's low Iz, even for you." His dimples grow bigger as he grins at me, and his cute face is almost too hard to resist.

"Your fault, Buddy. The one time I introduced you to a friend of mine, what happened? You slept with her, never called her again, and she never called ME again." With that, I wave my fingers at him and walk behind the bar.

We're super busy tonight so Angie and I don't get a chance to talk. The band is good and loud, they're playing a lot of sixties rock mixed in with some classic country. The crowd is banging. Emmett has a talent for finding the best, undiscovered talent and brings bands in from all over the country. People come to listen to his new finds and to get abused by the hot bar staff. It's a gimmick, sure, but a profitable one.

I sigh when I see my ex, Jake, sidle up to the bar, so I make my way to him, mentally reviewing my getup. Black leather mini skirt, tight white tee, black knee-high boots. Stellar.

"Hey Iz. Looking good."

"I know." I smirk at him, and grab the Jagermeister from the shelf, pouring him one, and watch as he gulps it down and slams the glass back onto the bar top.

"How's the house?" I gape at him for a moment, shocked he has the nerve to ask.

"Fantastic. Especially without you in it." I smile brightly and refill his glass.

* * *

"Can I please go ahead of you today?" A gravelly voice sneers behind me.

Without even turning around I know who is behind me. Manchu. "No."

I hear him suck in his breath. "You're really sweet, you know that?" The scoff in his voice is obvious.

"If you hadn't been a prick last week, maybe you'd be seeing my sweet side." I mentally give myself a high five and smile at the back of the girl's head in front of me.

"Maybe if you weren't covered head to toe, I'd actually be able to _see_ your sweet side."

The earth doesn't rotate as slowly as I do, turning on my heel to confront him. My eyes are dead and unforgiving as I meet his stare. "Excuse me?"

"I said-"

"I heard what you said." I snap.

"Good. I meant you to." He looks at me, throwing my line from last time back at me.

"Be thankful I'm covered. My naked body has been known to make grown men stupid, and I really don't think you have much wiggle room there."

* * *

"And you only see this guy on Friday's?" Angie screams over the roar of the band while pouring a line of three shots.

"Yeah. He's a complete tool."

"Is he cute?" Angie slams the glasses down on the bar in front of a big beefy guy in front of her. "Pay up and make sure you tip me, Fuckwit."

The biker laughs in glee and passes the shots over his shoulder to his friends, slapping twenty bucks on the bar.

"Thanks." Angie puts the money in the cash register and stuffs the change in the noticeable black bra she's wearing under her thin white tank top.

"Hey, that wasn't all for you, Sweetheart." The biker protests.

"Yes it was. Move on." She turns to the girls waiting to place their drink order and smiles sweetly; we only abuse the men.

Clearly not familiar with our routine, the guy she just waved off looks at his friends, who are encouraging him. "You remind me of my ex-wife." The guys laugh behind him. "Can I have your number, Doll Face?"

Angie finishes serving the girls and sidles up to the bar, crossing her arms under her boobs and leaning forward. Motioning the guy over with a crook of her finger and a sexy smirk, he falls for it, and leans in to her.

I stand pouring a beer and wait in anticipation. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Emmett slowly inching closer to us. This guy is obviously new to our establishment, he has no idea that we're allowed to call the customers names, but you don't "Doll Face" one of _us_. We also don't like, "Babe", "Sweetie", or "Hun".

"My number? You want some hanky panky?" Angie says sweetly, but loud enough for those near her to hear. I can tell the regulars know what's coming as they back up a little and clear some room.

"Hell yes! I'd like to buy you dinner first though, pretty lady." The big guy says, thinking he's got her.

"I just bet you would, Big Boy." I watch as Angie reaches under the bar for the trusty bottle we keep on hand at all times.

In a flash, Angie lifts the bottle and throws a healthy amount of the contents at the dude's chest.

He's sputtering and wiping his hand over his shirt, while the other customers, including his friends, roar with laughter.

"What the hell?" The guy is pissed.

"You wanted some hanky panky, you got some. One part gin, one part vermouth, a dash of Fernet Branca. A Hanky Panky."

The crowd is howling, but I can see the guy getting agitated. Emmett comes closer and Big Boy takes notice. Not wanting to get 86'd from the best bar in town, he wisely asks Angie for a napkin, and disappears into the crowd by the stage.

"Ah, don't get to do that as much as I'd like." She laughs and wipes the bar down while I hand the few people that got hit a free shot. "So, is he cute?"

I have to think for a moment before I remember what we were talking about.

"Who, Coffee Jerk? I have no idea. All I see when I look at him is a suit. Not my style."

* * *

"This is getting ridiculous. Look, I'm even late today. So don't blame me that you're not in front of me." I huff as I turn around to look at Manchu.

"I didn't say anything." His eyes open wide, looking back at me.

"Uh, you think I can't hear you huffing behind me? Sounds like you have asthma. Maybe your mustache is hindering your breathing."

"Maybe I'm just so overwhelmed with lust by your Little House on the Prairie ensemble I'm breathless. Can I call you Half Pint?" He grins at me, like he's funny.

"Oh my god. You are such a dick! It's a skirt and blouse." I look down at my outfit.

"Yeah, but it's down to your ankles and up to your neck."

"What is it, exactly, that makes you care about what I'm wearing?"

He starts rocking back and forth on his heels, hands in pockets, and shrugs. "I don't, not really. I just think your drink choice and your outfits say a lot about you."

Rolling my eyes, I say what I know I shouldn't. I'm asking for it. "Ok, what does it say about me?" I raise my hands in question.

"Librarian."

I smirk. "Wrong."

"Teacher." He fires back immediately, his eyes sparkling behind his smirk.

My mouth opens and nothing comes out.

"HA! Knew it."

* * *

We're finishing up wiping down the bar and bottles, putting everything back in place for tomorrow's afternoon opening. Emmett tells us that we don't need to, as we're the star attraction, but we don't mind. It gives us a chance to unwind, have a drink in peace and catch up.

"I think Ben's gonna pop the question." Angie says matter-of-factly while my eyes bug out of my head.

"Get the fuck out! Oh my god! Ang! How do you know?"

"Uh, I kinda found the ring while I was cleaning." She concentrates on a bottle, giving it too much attention. I clear my throat.

"Okay, okay! I found it while I was snooping." She grins at me.

"That's fantastic Angie." I put my cloth down and give my best friend a hug. "He totally doesn't deserve you." I smile.

"I know." She smirks and I watch her walk to the other side of the bar. She tosses our rags into the bin by the dirty glasses the staff will wash tomorrow. "Let's get out of here, huh? I'm starving."

Ten minutes later, we're settled in a booth at Missy's, the best all night diner in town. Legends have eaten here. The walls are covered with signed photos of local royalty like Gene Autry, Patsy Cline, and Loretta Lynn. We usually choose to sit under the king himself, Mr. Elvis Presley.

We place our order and make small talk while we wait for our food. "So, did you see Coffee Jerk this morning?" Angie asks as she blows over the rim of her cup, black just like his.

"Hmph. Yes. He's intolerable. I have no idea why he likes to torture me." My spoon clangs loudly against my saucer as I finish stirring my hot chocolate.

"Ok, sure you don't." Angie rolls her eyes.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"He likes you."

"Oh yeah, sure. I highly doubt that. He called me Half Pint and said I dressed like Little House on the Prairie." I can feel my skin prickling at the memory of the stupid nickname. I'm going to call him Manchu to his face next week. See if he likes it.

"You should show up in that." Angie nods towards my leather halter and pants, somewhat covered by my old college hoodie.

I shrug. "Let him think I'm some professor, what do I care?"

"You are a professor."

"Yeah, but he thinks I'm an _uptight_ professor. Let him." I thank the waitress delivering our food and grab the ketchup.

"If he only knew the other side of Izzy. Do you think he likes tattoos?" Angie laughs and bites into her burger.

I push my sleeves up. "If he saw my art, it'd probably put his calculator loving body into cardiac arrest." I glance down at my ink-heavy arms; the swirls of color bright and dense, covering most of the skin.

"Calculator?"

"He dresses like an accountant. Boring." I shrug.

"You still didn't say if he was cute or not."

"Not. Definitely not." Although the mustache is kinda hot.

* * *

"Early class today?" I hear, as someone next to me pulls out a chair. The wood legs scrape against the tile in a very loud, very obnoxious, too early for this, kind of sound. I close my eyes.

"I'm an hour early today just so I could avoid you." I glance up at Manchu just as he sits down and places his cup on my table.

"Look around Half Pint, there are no other seats available." He waves his arm around, not noticing that he almost hits the woman next to him in the head. I'm not surprised that escapes his attention. He looks at my laptop and nods his head towards it.

"Big lesson plan today? Teaching romantic literature and reading the Bronte's to a bunch of multiple cat owners?"

I grit my teeth and hold my foot back from making contact with his shin. "You never sit down. Why today?" I think I'm whining.

"Oh, so you've been taking notes? Interesting." He wiggles his eyebrows and I can't help but watch as the sides of his mustache lift as he smiles.

"No. I watch to make sure you've left." I meet his eyes, a green too pretty for someone so annoying, and cross my arms over my chest, defensively.

"So harsh." He places his hand over his blue tie, like I've wounded him.

"So's that suit fabric. What's it made of, burlap?" Don't look at me. This guy started it. I can't help it that I regress to ten year old behavior because of this rude stranger.

Extending his arm out in an offering, he asks, "Want to touch it and find out?"

"No, I do not." I snort. "Off to crunch numbers at the accounting firm of Boring and Annoying?"

"Oh, so you think you've got me all figured out huh?" He raises his eyebrows.

"Well, it's a good guess. Weird haircut, bad suit." I raise one shoulder in indifference.

"I'll have you know I've been told I have sex hair."

I raise my eyebrows and spit out, "By who? The Hobbits?"

* * *

We've got a special event in the back bar tonight. Emmett has called in reinforcements in the form of extra bartenders Lauren and Jessica. They're okay; they're kinder than Angie and I, therefore less popular with the crowd. They're a good fit for the Bikers for Pediatric Cancer fundraiser though. It's a worthwhile cause, and Angie and my aggressive shtick isn't in line with the caring attitude of the events' intentions.

Emmett has created an area in the back of the main bar that can be used for events such as this. It's sectioned off with huge pieces of old wood beams, and he's hung a giant steer head with a ring through its nose over the dedicated bar, adding to the theme of Nashville's only country western biker-friendly establishment. They'll have their own service and tables with food, but be able to enjoy the live music as well.

Angie and I hit a lull while the event's going on. It's still a bit early for our regular crowd, so we convene by the register and wipe down the counters.

"So Jake's been coming around again." She says to me, a worried look on her face.

"Ugh, don't remind me." I look at her and she continues.

"Please tell me you're not going to get back with him?" She pleads.

"Oh lord, hell no. He actually had the nerve to ask about the house." I shake my head, remembering.

Angie's eyes widen and she shakes her head. "Unbelievable."

"I'm telling you Ang, I'm done. That was the last relationship I'm going to let myself get into. I'm just pissed I let it get that far and didn't end it myself. I knew it wasn't working."

"You can't let one asshole and a bad experience guide your relationship future."

I shrug. "None of my past relationships worked either. I guess it's me."

She scoffs. "Don't be ridiculous. You're a catch."

I shrug again. "Not one of those guys excited me, Ang. They were dull, and I didn't do anything about it. Every relationship suffered due to my inability to tell them what I wanted, sexually as well. They just weren't worth the effort. Jake was the first one I really tried to have something real with and look how that turned out. I'm better off alone." I stop wiping and lean on the counter, chin in hand. "Alone with my vibrator."

I look around, checking out some of the hotter patrons in the establishment tonight. It's unreal how many good-looking men we get in here. "I should try a purely sexual relationship. Just cut out all of the other stuff like feelings and day-to-day bullshit. Even that might not do it for me. No one excites me."

"Not even a suit wearing coffee lover?" Angie laughs.

I make a face at her suggestion. "Uh, NO. Thank you. I can't imagine him being anything but exactly what I've already tried. Dull." Even if the banter is somewhat stimulating.

I check out a tall blond leaning against the pool table, his smile catching my eye. His body isn't bad to look at and I contemplate sending him a drink. My decision is made for me when an equally tall and blond female moves between his legs and plants one on him.

My eyes roam and hit on a pair of muscular legs clad in worn jeans. I let my eyes roam down his body. The jeans are the kind of worn that you can't buy from American Eagle. The ass is good, grab worthy. Black, form fitting long sleeved t-shirt under a black leather vest, an unusual emblem I don't recognize on the back. A black bandanna covers his head with a peek of brownish hair coming out underneath. The guy is dangerously sexy from the back for sure. I'm waiting for him to turn around when Angie alerts me that she needs my help as the crowd has surged again.

Forgetting my manhunt for the moment, I go back to making grown men grovel.

After another Hanky Panky, some doling out of bar shots and perhaps one or two flirtations later, I tell Angie I'm stepping outside for some air. We have about an hour left before closing. The fundraiser in the back room is winding down and we have a few leftovers hanging at the bar along with our usuals. Angie assures me she's got it covered.

After slipping on Emmett's hoodie, I open the heavy black door in the back and step out into the well-lit lot where the patrons with motorcycles normally park. Emmett doesn't like us to come out here alone, the customers sometimes think we're fair game if we're not behind the bar insulting them. He's installed so many lights out here it rivals a construction zone doing roadwork at night and it's hurting my eyes. I amble down the building and slink around the darker corner that faces the bank. I rest my head back against the cool brick and close my eyes.

It's surprisingly quiet out here; Emmett has soundproofed the bar as much as possible to prevent complaints from the nearby businesses. I'm lost in the silence until I hear what sounds like moaning.

Moaning and car creaking, to be exact.

I snap my head up; thankful I'm in the shadows, and spot a red car in the lot across from where I'm standing. I feel my breath hitch and a tightening in my stomach as I watch two people having sex. Really hot, really fast sex from what I can see. I know I should go back inside and give them some privacy.

I don't.

Instead, I sneak over to stand behind the bank sign and peek around it. I'm closer to the rocking car than I think is safe, but I find myself excited at the dangerous proximity.

The noises they are making are animalistic and I involuntarily squeeze my leather clad thighs together as I watch the woman ride the dude in the back seat, hard. Her tits are bouncing in his face and he's trying to get a mouthful, but her movement is too jarring. He finally reaches up with one hand to grasp a breast and I watch hungrily as his tongue juts out and licks her nipple.

I feel it in my own breast and before I know it, I've got my hand under my shirt and I pinch my hardening nipple. It feels so good, too good. When I hear the woman increase her moans, my hand starts making it's way down my torso, fingertips playing at my waistband. I'm so ridiculously turned on watching these two go at it that I can't hear anything but the creaking and the moaning.

Until I hear a voice too close to my ear.

"Half Pint likes to watch, hmm? What a naughty, naughty teacher."

* * *

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**From the planetblue Archive of Awesome Fic List:**

**The Art Teacher by spanglemaker9**

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	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"_Half Pint likes to watch, hmm? What a naughty, naughty teacher."_

* * *

I'm embarrassed I've been caught, but I'm mortified it's by Manchu. What is he doing here? I start to turn around, but he grasps my shoulders so I can't move.

"I didn't mean to interrupt. By all means, let's see the finale." His breath in my ear is like fire lapping at my nerves, singeing and burning my insides, a feeling not all that unpleasant.

His right arm snakes around my shoulders so he's grasping my left, and his other hand slips down my side until it's sitting on my hip. He's not pressing himself against me, but I feel completely engulfed by him.

I should scream, I should stomp on his foot and kick him in the balls. However, his breathing escalates as he rubs his thumb over my shoulder, and it puts me into a stupor. I think I hear him sniff me before I feel his lips barely touch my ear as he whispers, "They're almost done, Half Pint. Don't miss it because of me."

My eyes flicker up, back to the car, and I let out a whimper as I'm just in time to see the man pull the woman's hair, baring her neck to him, inviting his mouth to suck and lick. I feel Manchu close the gap between us and his hard body is tight against mine. There is no mistaking what I feel on my lower back, and my eyes start to slide closed.

The sound from the car intensifies and I reopen them in time to see the man slamming the woman down hard onto himself, both of their heads thrown back and the woman bracing herself with one arm pressed against the roof of the car. I feel his hand move from my hip and slowly slide across my stomach, settling on the button of my leather shorts. I should be embarrassed at the amount of panting escaping my mouth, but this is one of the most erotic things I've ever been a part of.

The couple is grunting and moaning, obviously coming together, and I whimper when I feel his hand slide down my shorts only to bypass where I want it most, as it settles on the inside of my thigh.

"I bet we could be louder." He whispers, before sliding his hands back around me, following the path they took to get where they were. "See you next Friday morning, Half Pint."

As his hands leave me completely, the fuzz in my brain begins to clear and I know I have to get out of sight before the couple get back into the front seat of the car. I spin around expecting to see Manchu, but I must've been dazed for longer that I thought, as he's nowhere to be found.

What the fuck was Coffee Jerk doing here? Crap, is he invading my nighttime space now too?

When I return to the bar, after taking a moment in Emmett's office, Angie looks at me and asks if I'm all right.

"Sure, why wouldn't I be?" I try to act like I did not just get myself off in the office bathroom.

"You were gone a while, I was about to send Jared out to check on you." I look over at the bouncer and shake my head at Angie.

"The air felt good, I lost track of time." Is all I say, and walk over to the couple at the end of the bar to escape my friend.

I spend the rest of the night throwing insults and laughing with the regulars, trying not to think about how fucking sexy my Coffee Jerk sounded in my ear. Did I just say my? Shit. I can't ever return to that shop.

* * *

I'm sitting in my car like a loon, debating whether or not to go in for my latte. It's the Friday after the hot parking lot escapade, and I'm excited and nervous to possibly see him all at the same time. I've gotten my latte here almost every day for two years since landing the job at Belmont U and I really need it. My drink of choice may not be as strong as some arrogant asshole's idea of strong, but it's caffeine I need and cannot make myself.

Feeling ridiculous about my waffling, I get out of the car and walk confidently to the door, pulling it open with force. I don't look around as I get in line and place my order, and I don't look around when I sit at my normal table and pull out my laptop.

I'm sipping quietly, working on student papers when it occurs to me that it's possible he has decided to find a new spot to get his boring black coffee.

This is a good thing. I'll never have to worry about him insulting me again with his insufferable arrogance and self-proclaimed sex hair. Sex hair I wish I'd had the chance to see in that parking lot, cause maybe if I saw it in a different context, I'd agree.

I stay working until it's past the time I normally leave and make my way out of the shop. I realize part of me is slightly offended that he seems to be avoiding me. Going off of the evidence pressed to my back for a good five minutes, I'd say I wasn't the only one that took matters into their own hand once we parted ways.

* * *

"Was there a guy in a suit here last Friday?" I ask Angie as I pull two beers from the cooler and whip the caps off, flinging them into the crowd.

"A suit? I don't remember seeing anyone wearing a suit." Angie scrunches up her nose, in doubt. "Why?"

I shrug, giving no sure answer and serve a couple more interested in making out. I can't for the life of me recall what he might've been wearing when he had his arms around me, since I was a bit preoccupied. I'm stuck on wondering why I didn't notice him if he was in the bar that night.

I blow my bangs from my eyes and straighten my shirt. I was feeling feisty so I dressed appropriately; tiny denim shorts and a plaid shirt tied high under my boobs. I've fashioned my hair in two long braids behind both ears, which is a really easy style to have at work. So I said fuck it, I look like a slutty Daisy Duke, but it's cute.

I'm disappointed that I'm still thinking about Manchu. I'm pissed that he felt the need to go elsewhere for his coffee this morning. If I were to be honest, it's hurting my pride a little.

A while later, I'm angrily throwing bottles around mixing some Long Island Iced Teas when out of the corner of my eye, I see Emmett greeting someone with a bro hug. I look up from my concoction to see who it is and fuck me; Manchu is standing not ten feet away. Fuck me twice, he's dressed exactly like the dangerously sexy guy I was checking out last Friday with the grab-worthy ass. The vest is the same, the black leather containing the unusual emblem, and a black bandanna once again covers his head. My mind starts spinning at the thought that he's here. Maybe Emmett hired him to do his books, and he dressed appropriately.

I watch with narrowed eyes as he leaves Emmett and walks slowly to me, smirking with his stupid face. He's about to say something, but I don't give him the chance.

"No suit, huh? Playing dress up, trying to impress me?" I say as I slam my two drinks on the bar, spilling their contents, in front of the customers. They laugh and tip me even though that wasn't part of my act. "Is the Schwinn parked out front?" I grin, thinking I'm clever.

Manchu leans on the bar and settles back on his rear leg so he's eye level with me. "Happy to see me?" The same husky voice from the parking lot slides over my skin, and I try not to visibly shiver. "Nice braids, Half Pint." He says while reaching out and lifting one, flipping it away with his fingers. "It's a nod to my nickname, admit it." He takes his thumb and forefinger and traces his mustache, smirking when he realizes I'm watching his movement.

I snap my eyes to him. "I admit you're an asshole." I think I'm breathing heavy. In anger, of course.

"You're happy to see me. You can't deny it." He lowers his eyes to the front of my shirt. "Your nipples are, anyway."

Holy shit. They are? They are. Fuck. I cross my arms and take a step backwards, breaking from his spell. "You're a pig. What the hell are you doing here anyway and why were you here last week? This was my happy place." I stomp away to the other side of the bar and tell Angie to take my side. Angie looks over to see what's got me agitated and before she can say anything, I snap. "Don't."

She grins and raises her eyebrows in question, but goes over to serve the prick.

* * *

I manage to avoid contact with Manchu for the rest of the night, but I do find myself watching him periodically. I begrudgingly admit that the biker look fits him like a second skin. Well, my nipples still think so anyway.

I reach for a bottle of Patron only to see it's practically empty, so I look around for the bar back, Seth. He's nowhere to be found. I'd bother Emmett but I saw him earlier wrangling a guy past his limit out the door and into a cab. The bar's not busy so I motion to Angie with my thumb that I'm going in the back and wave the empty bottle at her. She nods so I walk around the back of the horseshoe-shaped bar to the gap, exiting the bar area and making my way to the stock room.

I open the door with my key and start rooting through the boxes for the Patron, only to find it's up high where I can't reach.

I hear steps behind me and call out to Seth to help me get the box down, but before I can turn around to face him, I feel my braids being pulled back into a tight grip. I have orgasm flashbacks when I hear Manchu's voice in my ear, husky and liquid. "Do you need some help, Half Pint?"

I try to stop the tremble in my voice when I answer. "What is it with you coming up behind me?"

"When you shed your Pride and Prejudice clothing for this sinful stuff, I can't help but appreciate this sweet side of you I've been wanting to see." He presses up against my back to point out exactly what side it is he likes.

"You're really pushing your luck here, Asshole. You should probably get your hands off me. Right now." My heart is beating out of my chest as I feel his mustache tickle the back of my neck.

"As you wish." He says before he presses his lips softly against my skin. I shudder and feel my braids being loosened from his grasp. Involuntarily, I reach my hand back to grab onto his thigh, wanting to halt his movement, and I wonder what's come over me. He stands still and I hear him inhale sharply as my hand slides up his thigh and lands on his very hard and apparently stupidly big, denim-covered cock.

"If you want to keep this attached to your body," I growl, "you'll quit sneaking up behind me." I finish, wanting to pretend that this threat was the intention of my grope.

"You don't like men behind you?" His mouth has moved closer to the top of my head and for a brief moment I think he's about to kiss my hair.

"Not you." My hand betrays me by twitching, which gives the appearance I've squeezed him. I swear it was a twitch.

"I think you liked it just fine last week." His voice lowers and I feel his hand ghost over my hip. "Tell me, did you ever get to touch yourself? I know I interrupted you." His breath is hot on my scalp and I can't help it when I feel myself nodding.

He moans and places his lips on my hair. "I wish I could've seen that. I bet you have the prettiest little pussy." My knees threaten to buckle and I squeeze, causing him to push himself against my hand.

Against my better judgment and despite my dislike for this man, I let out a lust filled moan. "Did you..?" I trail off breathlessly, and his cock twitches in my palm.

"Oh yeah. I thought of fucking you in a car. I came very, very hard."

I swallow and contemplate what to do next until I hear "Iz?" from behind us and I jump a foot away from Manchu, realizing Seth is about to enter.

When he fills the doorway, he looks from me to Manchu and asks if I'm all right.

"Yeah, Seth, I couldn't reach the Patron." Realizing I don't know Manchu's name, I continue. "Emmett's friend here was helping." I snort internally. He was helping, all right.

"Oh sorry. I was with Jared and Emmett dealing with that drunk guy." He reaches behind the door and grabs the footstool, reaching inside the box to get the bottle I'm after.

"Thanks." I look at Manchu who has an amused expression on his face and rush out the door with my bottle clutched tightly to my chest.

* * *

I keep busy when I return to my post and take the aggression I feel towards Manchu out on the customers, not that they'd know the difference. I'm pissed I'm thinking about him at all.

The band starts playing "Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy" so Angie and I start yelling and Emmett comes over to lend a hand as we climb up on top of the bar. The crowd starts whooping, encouraging Angie and I as we stomp and shimmy, everyone joining in at the top of their voices at the chorus. I grab a bottle and start pouring shots into open mouths and glance up only to see Manchu leaning against the wall, talking to a statuesque redhead.

Angie and I continue dancing on the bar and pouring shots until the song is over, everyone hooting and hollering while we climb down and the band announces they're taking a break. I look over in time to see Big Red leaning into Manchu as she whispers something in his ear. He nods and starts making his way to the bar.

Customers surround me so the only gap in the crowd at the moment is near Angie. I can't hear what he orders, and as I inch closer I hear Angie ask, "You want water?" And I'm filled with glee.

I quickly scoot over and grab the megaphone she was reaching for next to the cash register. It turns on with a howl and I shout, "Hey everybody! This guy ordered water!" People are looking at me and one guy shouts "pussy" over the din of the crowd. "Should I give him some?" I yell and I hear a mix of yes's and no's. "He looks pretty thirsty!"

Manchu is looking at me with a confused expression on his face as he watches me grab the soda dispenser and select the correct liquid.

"You want water? I'll give you water!" I shout and depress the button.

Streams of water come shooting out of the gun and all over Manchu's chest, dousing him. The people near him jump back, but everyone is screaming and laughing, while Manchu just stands there with a dumbfounded look on his face.

I finish and return the nozzle to its holder, turning to put my hand on the bar and the other on my hip. "You didn't say if you wanted that in a bottle or a glass, so I chose for you." I say, pleased with myself.

Manchu pulls the wet shirt from his body, which has become transparent, showing off a pretty drool worthy, well-defined chest. He looks up at me and a slow smirk spreads across his face.

"Half Pint, if you wanted me to take my shirt off, all you had to do was ask."

* * *

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**From the planetblue Archive of Awesome Fic List:**

**Fall to Ruin One Day by sleepyvalentina**

He wanted to be the most powerful man on earth. As far as she was concerned, he already was. Love. Longing. A decade of regret. Time changes nothing...or does it?

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	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

I played the events of Friday over in my head for the next few days, annoying myself. I couldn't deny the two interactions I've had with him outside the coffee shop were more exciting than any sexual experience I've had my whole life. I also couldn't deny that when not engaging in moments of crazy foreplay, he was mostly a jerk.

He was arrogant, assuming, and insulting.

After his impromptu striptease, courtesy of my water service, the crowd surrounding us cheered and laughed with him, enticing my people against me and into his corner. His actions made me pout immaturely for the rest of the night because I had been bested. I don't like to be bested.

Another Friday arrived too quickly and I soon found myself pulling up in front of the coffee shop. I wondered if last week's absence was a fluke, or if he truly had decided to get his coffee elsewhere. Standing in line, I feel my phone vibrate in my bag and pull it out to see the picture of Alice's twins grinning at me with drooly smiles.

I can't help but grin back and excuse myself from the line, to answer her call.

"Hey Alice, how're my babies today?" I move to my table and sit, wiping spilled coffee out of my way with a napkin left on the table.

"Well, so far Timmy has managed to spill the whole cereal box onto the floor, and Tommy has decided to flush Jasper's keys down the toilet. So, not a bad morning overall!" She laughs.

"I don't know how you do it." I seriously don't. Jasper is a med student and works as a janitor at night. Alice, a stay at home mom, hardly ever gets a break.

"They're mine, and I love them. Even if I want to lock them in a cage sometimes."

"Well if you do, make sure you leave them some water, alright?"

"Right." She laughs and I can hear her kissing one of them through the phone. "So listen, they've been missing you and Timmy has a doctor's appointment near your office. Can you meet for lunch? It has to be a Burger King or McDonalds, I'm afraid."

"I wouldn't miss seeing them for anything. I have a break between lectures from twelve-thirty to two o'clock. Does that work?"

Just as Alice is confirming the time, I see out of the corner of my eye, a hand placing a cup in front of me. I look up quickly only to find Manchu smirking at me and pulling the chair across from me out, apparently getting ready to sit.

"OK Alice, I'll meet you at McDonalds at one. I gotta go." Before she can say goodbye, I've hung up the phone and placed it on the table.

"Just what do you think you're doing?" I ask, watching Manchu sip casually from another cup. I look back at the one in front of me, apparently it's mine.

"I'm sitting, what does it look like?" He opens his suit jacket button and gets comfortable.

"Do you ever ask permission?"

"Nice attitude, Half Pint, I bought you your frou-frou drink." He nods towards the cup sitting in front of me. "A thank you usually follows an act of kindness."

The last thing I want to do is thank him, so I pick up my cup hoping it's wrong so I can tell him.

Of course, it's not.

"Thank you." I grimace and take a sip of the hot drink. "How did you know I hadn't already finished mine and was about to leave?"

"I saw you duck out of the line to answer your phone."

"So now who's watching who?"

"You're the high school English teacher, isn't it who's watching whom?"

I feel my blood pressure start to rise and begin to gather my things. I'll enjoy my drink in the car.

Before I can get up, his hand shoots out and places itself on my arm, the heat of his touch burning through the silk and making a slow progression throughout the rest of my body.

"I guess being a teacher, I understand why you dress like a nun during the day." He says, his hand lingering and I can't help but stare at it as he takes two fingers and rubs the smooth material of my shirt between them. "Can't have those teenage boys lusting after the artwork on your spectacular body."

I slump back in my chair, his words cascading over me, making me immobile. "I think I'll stick with Half Pint anyway. I like it." I watch as his hand slowly moves down my arm, caressing and scorching until he reaches the button at my cuff and deftly flicks it open. His fingers slide under the fabric at my wrist, slowly moving the material up to expose the beginning of my tattoos.

"This right here," he says as he fingers the swirl of color leading to the garden that covers my entire arm. "If I were seventeen again, watching you in class all day with your flesh exposed, I'd have quite a few fantasies in my arsenal, thinking of this bit of skin while alone."

The crowd around us has disappeared, lost in a blur of muffled voices and non-descript shadows. I feel like I'm in a tunnel, all I can see are his fingers on my arm.

He pushes my sleeve higher and I feel his nails scrape the inside, the area of sensitive skin near my elbow, and watch in slow motion as he leans down towards the pink lily that covers it. He doesn't touch his lips to my skin; he just hovers. I can feel his mustache lightly tickle. I'm mesmerized and wouldn't be able to move even if I wanted to.

"I love seeing every inch of skin that's allowable in public," he groans, his lips finally touching down, and my skin flares. "But I'd die to see every inch that's not."

I've stopped breathing all together, my mind mush. I watch him get up from his seat like I'm watching a movie, wanting but unable to communicate with the actors on the screen. "I'll see you around, Half Pint. Have a great day." His eyes pierce mine and with that, he's gone.

I sit dumbfounded for a moment and look around me, noticing a few other patrons staring my way. I turn to the older woman seated directly next to me and ask, "Did that just happen?"

"Oh god, Honey, for your sake I sure as hell hope so."

* * *

I find Alice already seated at McDonalds, trying to coax Timmy to eat. Tommy is happily munching fries and playing with the toy he got in his meal.

"Sorry, I had to get them something before there was screaming involved." Alice says as I lean down to kiss her cheek.

"No problem, I'll go up and get our lunch. What can I get you?" After telling me what she wants and trying to push money at me, which I refuse. I head off to get our lunch and rejoin them back at the table.

Tommy is showing me how his car works while Timmy stares at me from his mother's lap.

"So what's the deal with you today, Timbo? Not feeling so good?" I ask as I brush the hair out of his eyes.

The little boy shakes his head slowly and puts his thumb in his mouth.

"I'm overreacting I'm sure, but this cold won't go away. We need to get rid of it before it passes through the rest of us."

"Yes, that's all you need. I remember the last time both of them got sick. It wasn't pretty." I laugh, remembering Alice's desperate calls to take the kids and Jasper while she ran away.

"Ugh, there's no stopping it once the germs get everywhere." Alice takes a bite of her Big Mac and grimaces. "I really can't stand fast food." She sighs and puts her burger down. "So tell me what's new and exciting! I live vicariously through you."

"Nothing worth reporting." My arm sizzles as I lie.

"Crap. No good s-e-x stories for me?" Alice whispers.

"When's the last time I had s-e-x?" I scoff.

"Um, Jake. Yeah, nothing worth rehashing there." Alice grins as she grabs her Diet Coke, trying to put Timmy down on the bench. He's not having it.

"Please. Besides his a-s-s-h-o-l-e nature, as good looking as he is, you think he'd be more exciting in bed."

Alice laughs. "You said so yourself, you didn't speak up and tell him what you wanted. He thought he was doing a good job."

Reminiscing about Jake and our bedroom activities leaves me cold. Another relationship with an unexciting sex life. Eight months with the guy left me with barely a handful of orgasms while two brief encounters with a man I don't like has me feeling more turned on than any other time I can recall.

Alice continues, oblivious that my mind is elsewhere. "I swear, Jasper and I haven't done anything either lately. Kids, the ultimate birth control."

I feel bad not filling Alice in on what's been happening with Manchu, but I can't fathom it myself much less put it in words for her.

"So nothing new at Steel Horse? God, I haven't been there in forever. I used to really bitch it up." Alice nods her head, remembering.

"Where do you think I got all of my best insults?"

We talk about the bar for a bit, reminiscing about how we met when I had returned to Nashville after getting my doctorate. Alice had just returned to the bar after giving birth to the twins, so she trained me and we worked together for a while before she ultimately decided to be a stay at home mom. In her heyday, she could make grown men cry. I've seen it.

We clean up our table and Tommy gives my legs a huge hug while Timmy smiles faintly at me. Alice promises to let me know how it goes with the doctor, and we part ways.

* * *

The bar is crowded and rowdy, the perfect combination for good tips. I'm in a foul mood and seem to be taking in a little extra due to my poor attitude. It has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that Manchu has failed to make an appearance, even though I've been telling myself I'd rather he not become a regular.

Around midnight, Ang and I are finishing up a rousing stomp fest when I see Manchu enter and make a beeline for the bar. I stay up on my perch a little too long, as I feel my gut twist when I see what he's wearing. No suit pants or jeans this time, the man is wearing leather. Deadly black leather. Mixed with a black t-shirt and the vest and bandanna he wore previously, I can't deny that I'm attracted to a man that rubs me the wrong way most of the time.

"Iz! You comin' down anytime soon?" I look down and see Angie smiling at me, and then to what's gotten my attention. "Ohhh! Waterboy is here."

I jump down and scowl. "Waterboy is Coffee Jerk."

"Get the fuck out!" Angie's eyes bug out of her head and I have to turn her around physically so he doesn't see. "Oh it makes perfect sense now, the whole water thing."

"Yeah well…" I push her towards Manchu who has managed to claim a spot among the waiting customers. "You wait on him. Don't say anything about me or I pants you!" I slap her on the ass and move to the other side of the bar.

I'm mixing a cocktail when Ang interrupts me, her expression hard to read and tells me that Manchu has requested I service him. Those exact words.

Service him? Oh no he didn't. I pass off my cocktail to Ang, apologizing to the waiting customers, and saunter over to where Manchu has deemed himself my master.

"Either you're looking for my boot in your nuts or you're mistaken as to who you want to be serviced by." I stare him down with my hands on my hips. "I suggest you think your answer through."

Manchu smiles at me, but he doesn't seem to be as arrogant as he usually is. I don't feel bad if I've pissed him off.

"Your sunny personality is what I came for, so why not ask for what I want?" He leans on the bar and taps his knuckles against it. "I could really use a drink."

I soften my stance when I see that he does indeed look like he lost his puppy. "Fine. What will it be?"

"Patron silver, neat. A double."

I pull the bottle from the shelf behind me and grab a glass, pouring the clear liquid and setting the bottle back down. Something tells me he'll want another.

He holds the shot to me in a cheers gesture and downs it. I hold up the bottle, silently asking if he wants a refill, and he nods his head. "Will you do one with me, Half Pint?"

"I'm not allowed to accept drinks from the customers." I smirk. It's a lie. Ang and I accept them all the time from most people, filtering out the obnoxious guys, but we try to limit ourselves and I've already had two tonight.

"Not allowed or not willing?" He challenges.

"Not willing with you." I cock my head to the side and grin.

"Afraid to let your defenses down? Think you'll be caught alone again? There must be a few dark corners around here." His green eyes bore into me, and I feel my legs weaken.

I pour his drink and quirk my eyebrow up at him, trying not to give in to the effect he has on me when he isn't being annoying.

"So tell me, Half Pint, how does a high school English teacher end up working in a bar like this?"

"English teacher, HA! That's a good one."

I whip my head around to see Emmett coming up behind me. I hadn't even known he was back behind the bar. I look back to Manchu, who's wearing a confused expression.

"Your bartender here confirmed she was a teacher, maybe it was my mistake to assume she taught the classics." Manchu says to Emmett.

"My bartender is my sister, and she's no high school teacher. She's a professor over at Belmont University. The classics, huh? Tell him what you teach, Dear Izzy." Emmett is grinning, as he finds my course of education…entertaining.

I look from Emmett to Manchu, and grin.

"I teach a course called "Social Deviance. Course number SOC 2300, if you're interested in looking it up."

If I wanted to wipe Manchu's smirk off, I succeeded. He's staring at me dumbly, his mouth slightly open and looks to Emmett to see if I'm joking. Emmett just lets out one of his signature HA's and walks away.

"Social Deviance? Well that's a long way from Jane Eyre." He drinks his shot and puts the glass down, nodding his head to the bottle. "So tell me, Professor, what exactly is taught in a course about social deviance?"

"Oh a little of this, a little of that. Anything considered out of society's acceptable behavior. Taboos, the forbidden, addiction, criminal behavior, sexual deviance, things of that nature."

"Sexual deviance." He parrots.

"Yup." That's all he's getting from me. I take the bottle, pour him another and put the bottle back on the shelf.

"Well that explains it." His tone has changed and I bristle, waiting for some insult. I turn back around with a hand on my hip and wait for whatever it is he has to say.

He leans in over the bar, looking around to see if anyone is paying attention. Pleased that what he's about to say is between us, his eyes bore into me.

"Why you can't get enough of me touching you inappropriately in public."

The memory of that exact moment with him washes over me, and I feel my heart start to race.

"And I guess it also explains why your hand was about to enter your pants in the parking lot, watching two people go at it."

He knows my eyes follow whenever he rubs his facial hair, so he does it slowly. I feel myself leaning in closer to him, and he in turn starts to lean back. His eyes alight with mischief, and he winks at me.

"You, Half Pint, are your own course subject!"

* * *

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**From the planetblue Archive of Awesome Fic List:**

**Animate Me by abstract way**

Professional animator Edward worships cartoon exec Bella from afar by day and draws her in his comic book late at night. When this Daffy Duck-loving geek comes face to face with his dream girl, will his fantasy world come to life?

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	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

"_You, Half Pint, are your own course subject!"_

* * *

His eyebrows raise, pleased with himself and his comments.

I can't help it when my hand flies out and slaps him across his beautiful face.

I'm stunned, staring at my hand when I hear Emmett yell "Whoa!" Some of the customers are moving out of the way and others are laughing at the spectacle in front of them. "What the hell is going on?"

I turn and fume at my brother. "I would like this man removed from the bar immediately!" I say formally and point towards the exit.

"What did he do? All I saw was talking." Emmett looks to me and then at Manchu, trying to figure out what happened. Being a good boss and an even better big brother, he takes my request seriously. "Jesus. All right Edward, I guess you should go. Iz seems upset, and I can't have that." He says to Manchu and the jerk stands, hands up in acceptance.

"No problem Emmett. I guess I got the little lady here a tad upset. I have to go anyway." Emmett claps him on the back and I'm disturbed he's being friendly to this guy. 'Edwin' or whatever stupid name Emmett called him walks backwards towards the front door, smiling at me. "Until next time, _Professor_." He drawls out the word and raises his hand to his forehead and pretends to tip a hat.

After we watch him walk out the door, Emmett turns to me. "Iz, why don't you go cool off, huh? Go to my office or something. Take five." Emmett pushes me towards the back of the bar, and I walk out, grabbing a bottle of beer on my way.

I bypass the office in favor of fresh air and push open the heavy door forcefully. It bangs against the brick and rushes back to almost hit me, but I could care less at the moment.

I walk over to the side of the building without the lights, but all that does is remind me of the last time I was out here. I walk back the other way, wishing desperately that I was a smoker.

A motorcycle engine revs up in the bike lot, and voices carry from the front entrance. They're not uncommon sounds around here so I pay no attention and open my beer, taking a long swallow and pace the length of the building, letting off a little excess energy.

The smell of exhaust and motor oil is soothing to me, it's a scent I grew up around and I feel myself start to relax. I watch my motorcycle boots as I start walking heel to toe, heel to toe, trying to get control of my emotions. Another sip of beer, another lap on the asphalt, and I'm about ready to go back in.

I glance up at the bike that's still idling and fuck me.

"Oh, hell no!" I exclaim loudly, and kick the wall behind me. Sitting about a hundred feet away from me, straddling a beautiful vintage Harley, is none other than the cause of my distress. And he looks fucking good.

He has the audacity to be sitting with his arms crossed at his chest, grinning at me.

"Please, please! Tell me this isn't happening!" I raise my head up to the sky, looking for some divine intervention.

"I would say that I'm your wildest dream, but I like my pretty face too much to get slapped again." He uncrosses his arms and rests his hands on his thighs; one foot lifting up to perch on a peg.

I don't even know what to say at this point, and I'm thrown that I'm finding him so hot like this. I bring my beer to my mouth and drink, my eyes never leaving his, hoping I'll think of something witty. I've never been at such a loss for words before. I don't like it.

"Seriously, Iz, is it? I apologize if I offended you in any way in there."

If I was speechless before, I'm even more so looking at his face that holds no trace of the signature smugness.

"Hmph."

"I really hope you'll forgive me." He gets off his bike and starts walking towards me, hands outstretched. He looks sincere and I hate it.

"Ha."

"You just get me going. I can't explain it. It's like I was born to tease you." His leather pants get closer and the tone in his voice is one of adoration. He's even put his palms over his heart.

"Whatever…"

"Besides, you're so fucking sexy when you're angry. It's not my fault." At this point, he's right in front of me. He takes the bottle from my hand and brings it to his mouth, finishing what's left, staring at me the whole time.

"…" My mouth opens and closes without saying a thing, disgracing me.

"Can I show you how sorry I am, Half Pint?" His eyes haven't left mine, and the fire in them makes me tingly.

I shake my head and take a step back. "Stop it. Stop doing that. Stop being Jekyll and Hyde." Hypocritical, I know.

"How am I Jekyll and Hyde?" He laughs.

"Are you jerky, coffee-drinking suit guy or sexy biker guy?" My eyes widen when I realize I called him sexy. Fuck.

"I'm both, I suppose." He's laughing at me now.

"Accountants can't be sexy bikers."

"Accountants can't ride motorcycles?" I shake my head at him. "Come on, I'll show you my bike. It's what I say to all the pretty girls."

"I'll bet."

He takes my hand in his and while I'm wary, I let him lead me to the beautiful machinery. "Do you ride, Half Pint, or is this all for show?"

"I've been riding since I was seventeen." I say as I'm concentrating on the bike. It's fucking gorgeous. One of a kind, a classic. I'm so mesmerized I don't realize he kind of just insulted me again.

"You ride a 1966 Shovelhead. Unbelievable." My hand ghosts over the oval shaped gas tank, painted a classic Americana red and white.

The surprise is evident in Manchu's voice. "Sixty-seven actually. You're familiar with the Shovelhead?"

"Sure. The cooler running aluminum engine heads, not to mention its propensity for the less noisy drivetrain. Dude, it was innovative. Do you find it holds onto more oil?"

When he doesn't answer, I look up to find him gaping at me.

"Have I made you speechless, Manchu?" I can't help but grin at him.

"Very. Why are you calling me Manchu?"

I ignore his question. "Think I can keep you that way? I like you quiet."

"There is nothing sexier than a girl that knows her bikes. Except _you_, knowing _my_ bike."

"I'm still having a hard time believing this is yours." I look back at him, his stare is unnerving, but I don't look away. I don't think I can. "Let me guess, midlife crisis?"

Manchu doesn't break his gaze as he reaches over and turns off the engine, pocketing the key.

"Oh I'm an old pro. I'm not as boring as you seem to think." I watch as he rubs his hand over the leather seat. "Why don't you get up and sit on my bike, Half Pint?" He smirks.

"If I didn't want to sit on your bike so much, I'd slap you again." He grabs my hand and moves it to the throttle.

"Go ahead. Get on."

I put my foot on the peg while holding onto the throttle and move my other leg over the seat. I can't help but move my ass a little to settle in, and grab the other grip with my left hand. This bike feels good. This bike feels powerful. I know it's much heavier than what I'm used to, but I'd love to take it for a ride some day. I start imagining riding behind Manchu, my arms holding tightly onto his abdomen, feeling his muscles contract and react to my touch.

"It's ok." Is all I say, trying to sound nonchalant.

His eyes grow big. "It's ok? It's ok? She says it's ok. Sweetheart, you have no idea the power between your legs right now." I think he's actually talking about the bike now and I'm surprised when he doesn't turn it into something sexual.

I think I've found his kryptonite.

"Well, I've sat on better."

"There is no way you've had something better than this between those legs." He seems a tad upset, and I'm enjoying myself.

I remove my hands from the bars and swing my leg over the gas tank so I'm sitting sidesaddle, facing him.

"Eh." I shrug. I look back up at him and there's fire in his eyes, boring down at me and I swallow.

"Half Pint, trust me. You've never had something better between your legs." He moves quickly and is hovering over me, looming, putting me in his shadow. The security light behind him cloaks his face in darkness so I can't see his features, and then I hear a low growl. "Until I get myself there."

I feel his mouth cover mine hungrily before I've even see him lunge and my body betrays me. My hands reach up and grasp his vest, pulling him to me and kissing him ferociously. We're devouring one another, the animosity and lust evident in the force of the kiss.

He towers over me, the closeness of his body forces mine to lean back. Our mouths never separate and I feel him nudging me to turn. I spin my upper body so my back is laying flat on the tank, while I feel his hand grab my left leg and pull it up, positioning it on the other side of the bike. I'm now straddling the machine backwards, my legs spread on either side. He presses into me, his mouth and lips and teeth consuming mine. I feel his chest press against my hardened nipples and I groan, pulling my mouth from his.

"Touch me." I whisper. Oh god, I'm a whore.

I cover my embarrassment by clamping my mouth back to his and I feel his hand start to ghost up my side, grazing the outside of my leather halter top, his fingers reaching the bare skin next to my breast. He starts to move it back down and I break away again.

"Touch me already!" He pulls back and looks down at me, his eyes bright and his smirking mouth red and used.

He glances down at his hand and he watches as he slowly moves it back to where it was, his thumb hooking under the halter, brushing the side of my breast. I arch into him, needy, and he slips another finger under the fabric. He lowers his head and lets out a moan as he licks my cleavage. I'm about to scream at the want inside of me being denied.

"Tell me, Sweetheart, do you have ink everywhere?" He moves to kiss the side of the breast where his fingers have slipped below the leather. "Under here?" I feel his breath hot against my skin, and then his tongue following, coming dangerously close to my excited nipple.

I make some strangled noise and notice his other hand that was resting on the handlebar slide down, moving over my side and to my hip reaching the bottom of my leather shorts.

"Or here?" His finger slithers up under the hem and sweeps over the inside of my thigh.

His close proximity near my promised land all of a sudden makes me skittish and I remember where we are.

"Stop, stop!" I push at Manchu and he quickly removes his hands and stands upright.

"What's wrong?" He asks in breathy concern.

"We're in the fucking parking lot of my brother's bar!" I push him farther from me and jump off the bike, grabbing the discarded bottle he put on the ground as I hurry away.

"There's no one out here." I can hear him following me, so I whirl around and face him.

"Someone could come out here at any moment! I'm not going to be caught making out with a guy I can't stand by some random customer."

"So you still can't stand me? After that?" He waves towards the bike. "You seemed to like me a minute ago."

The fact that he's panting turns me on to no end, and I know I have to get away from him. "Shut up!" It's all I can think of so I turn to go back into the bar, my hand landing on the knob. In a flash, his hand covers mine, halting my movement, and I feel his chest press against my back.

His head lowers and his gravelly voice assails my ear. "Oh Professor, what would your students think if you couldn't teach your subject from experience? I think you like it out here, where we could be caught." I swallow when his lips touch my ear. "What's stopping you?"

I breathe deeply to get oxygen into my brain, cause lord knows I'm about to faint, and answer, "Nothing. I just don't like you." I hope he can't hear the quiver in my voice.

"I don't recall you complaining just a second ago." I watch his hand leave mine on the knob and glide up my arm. His fingers are trailing the vines of my tattoos, getting higher and reaching my shoulder. His other hand comes up to my neck and moves my hair away, exposing the skin for his greedy mouth, where he sucks the flesh near my collarbone. "I have a question, Professor. Have you ever been fucked outside?"

My breath leaves me in a whoosh, betraying me. I feel my stomach muscles clench at the mention of a long-standing fantasy.

"No." My chest is heaving, my heart beating rapidly at the fact I'm exposing myself to this man.

"Pity. Do you want to be?"

I am unable to lie, so I go for half-truths. "I don't know."

"I think you _do_ know." The growl in his voice is my undoing, his want for me evident, which makes me lose my mind.

"Yes, I want that."

His mouth is moving over my heated skin, barely kissing, heading towards the back of my neck. "Have you ever fucked in a car?"

I whisper my answer, almost ashamed to have to admit I missed out on something most people have done at least once in their teenage lives. "No."

"How about inside your establishment?" He pauses, waiting for me to answer. When I don't, he continues. "The bathroom of a seedy club?"

I just shake my head, no.

I feel him inhale against me before he speaks. "Half Pint," he hesitates, the movement of his mouth pausing. "Have you ever had sex anywhere other than a bed? Anywhere considered…deviant?"

I consider lying, I also consider kicking him and going back into the bar, but I know if I don't answer this truthfully, I may never experience those things. And in this moment, I want to admit it. He might just be the one to give it to me.

"No." I shake again and close my eyes.

"Oh, Izzy, who's been neglecting you? Who hasn't taken advantage of the depraved woman I know lives inside of you?" His hot tongue licks my neck in one large sweeping motion, making me tremble. "I'd fuck you on my motorcycle right now if you'd let me." He pulls his mouth from my body and I turn my head to look at him.

His eyes bore into me, full of lust, and I've never felt so wanted in my life.

"What do you say, hmmm? Want to go for a ride?"

* * *

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**From the planetblue Archive of Awesome Fic List:**

**The Real Life of E A Masen by Vancouver-Canuck-Girl**

Edward Cullen - to most, he's a boring book editor but he's really an elusive romance novelist with an erotic flair. When he's not writing porn, I mean romance, he's just a guy who's married to his high school sweetheart and father of three teens. Rated: M

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	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

"_What do you say, hmmm? Want to go for a ride?"_

* * *

His words echo in my head, banging as loudly as my pulse, and I'm tempted to say yes.

"I'm still on. The bar doesn't close until three." I say with some relief, some regret.

I feel his hands squeeze my shoulders before he steps away. "That's too bad. Maybe some other time."

I'm a little stunned at the quickness in which he's given up, considering how aggressive he has been. I take it as a sign and grab the doorknob, turning and opening the door. "Hmm, doubtful." I say, and shrug my shoulders to show how unconcerned I am about his lack of persistence. I have to get the upper hand back somehow.

"Oh you wound me, Half Pint." He places his hand over his heart, and I turn back in time to see him stagger backwards in exaggeration.

I watch his antics, and stifle a laugh. "You'd better get home and get your beauty sleep. I bet you have a big protractor convention tomorrow." I smirk.

He narrows his eyes at me and looks like he's about to say something, but instead he just smiles and rubs his mustache. "I'll see you next Friday, coffee's on you this time. Think you can manage to order something as basic as black?"

"Probably not. You'd better hope I finally smarten up and find a new place." I joke.

Manchu looks at me and his smile fades. "You can't leave me now, Iz. Seeing you on Friday morning is the only good way to start an otherwise crappy day." With that, he removes the bandana from his head and starts to walk backwards. He's still looking at me as I stand in the open door, watching as he runs his hand through the hair that's been flattened, causing it to become unruly. He slowly unfurls his killer smile.

He's definitely right about the sex hair.

* * *

Over the past year, Katie and I have formed a casual friendship. She was my student first, barista second, and Alice's babysitter third.

We struck up a conversation one day at the coffee shop when she approached me asking for some insight on a paper for another class she was having trouble with. The subject was prostitution, and she was trying to get deeper into why women might choose this as a profession over being forced into it. We sat and talked for a good hour, the conversation between us easy, making me late and she in a bit of trouble for ignoring her duties.

She joined Alice and me one afternoon while we were catching up and she was on a break, and from there, camaraderie formed. She and Alice had children in common, as Katie was pursuing a teaching degree, and was working part time at a pre-school three days a week. She loved to get insight from Alice on dealing with twins, and became Alice's go-to babysitter.

The Wednesday after the motorcycle incident, I'm sitting at my normal table while Katie is restocking the condiments bar. I'm debating whether or not to tell her I've had more interaction with Manchu outside of the coffee shop. She had just mentioned the fact that I'd been sitting with him last Friday, and was wondering why. She doesn't mention the arm-kissing incident, I assume she didn't see it, so I told her it was against my will and leave it at that.

Katie snaps me out of my internal debate when she mentions that Alice asked her to watch Tommy that afternoon while she took Timmy to the doctor. I realize that Alice never called me to let me know what the doctor said and ask Katie what she knows.

"As far as I know, it's a cold. This is a just a follow up. I guess she just doesn't want to have to drag Tommy out in the rain."

"Is Tommy sick?" I ask, concerned.

"No. He never caught it." I watch as Katie refills the milk container and napkin dispenser.

"Oh, well that's good. Will you tell her I'll call her later?" I gather my belongings and throw my empty cup in the trash.

"Sure thing."

I nod and say goodbye, stopping just outside the door under the protection of the awning to open my umbrella, and proceed to my car.

I decide I'm going to let Alice in on what's been going on with Manchu; her life could use a little spice right about now, and I admit to myself that I'm in need of some girl talk.

* * *

Pulling up the cobblestone driveway of my cottage, I realize I drove the whole way home without remembering my commute. I was lost in thought about the nature of my lecture this afternoon, the subject being the more sexual part of my course on deviant behavior.

I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy the discussion my students threw themselves into about engaging in sexual acts in unusual settings due to sexual compulsion, as opposed to just plain old human curiosity or "being in the moment". It was a happy coincidence the lecture had been scheduled at this time, after both parking lot incidents.

I've had serious fantasies about that exact subject most of my life, and it leaves me wondering again, if I'd find sex in unusual places as exciting as I envision them to be in my head, vibrator in hand. This led me to think of Manchu and what he wanted to do with me on that awesome bike of his. The pro being the excitement of being violated outside of the confines of a safe bed. The con, well, there was no real con, I just couldn't get around the fact that I was at work, and that it was _outside_ of where I work. I'm nothing if not responsible.

I blow my bangs out of my eyes in frustration and exit the car, grabbing the bottle of wine I purchased on the way home.

Opening the front door, I immediately call out for the cat I know lives here, yet I rarely see. I'm not surprised when Fender doesn't show, and dump my briefcase on top of the stack of mail covering the coffee table. I ignore the box on the floor full of DVD's I've yet to put away and kick my shoes off, leaving them where they are. As I proceed to the back of the house, I hang my jacket on the railing of the stairwell that leads to the second floor, and head towards the eat-in kitchen. This is my favorite room, as everything is mostly unpacked, give or take a box or two. With a clunk on the granite island, I put the bottle down and start rooting through the drawer for the opener.

At five o'clock sharp, I'm sitting on my couch with a glass of wine and phone in hand. After some small talk, I fill Alice in on what's been going on.

Her first question to me is why I didn't take him up on his offer. "I was working, Alice."

"Um ok, and?"

"And? And what? I wasn't going to have sex with him in the parking lot at work." I'm practically shouting.

"No one said to have sex in the parking lot. Jasper and I used to go-"

"NO thank you. Don't need to know." I start la la la'ing into the phone, making her laugh.

"Jesus Bella, for a sex teacher you sure are repressed." I hear a loud complaint in the background and Alice speaking to a twin. "Not now Tommy, Mommy's on the phone."

"First of all, I'm not a sex teacher, second of all, I'm not repressed. I have a very healthy fantasy life, thank you very much." I grin at my own wit.

"You need to act on those fantasies. This guy sounds like he'll be willing to help you out with that." She pauses and I begin to answer, only to have her cut me off. "Think of it as an assignment. Ooh, you could use the data you collect for an upcoming class! A special lecture!"

I sigh. If she only knew the wickedness of my fantasies, as opposed to my actual sexual history.

She continues. "You could video tape it and then you'd have some real visual aids."

Laughing, I drain my glass and refill. "I'll let you know when I schedule the lecture."

"Damn straight, you know I want to see it."

Settling back on the couch with my fresh glass, I muse. "I wouldn't mind having a purely sexual relationship. True relationships don't seem to work so well for me."

"I know you've been hurt in the past Iz. Trust me, I wanted to strangle Jake for deciding he wanted out of the relationship the week you closed on that house. Asshole. I mean, who buys a house with someone if they have doubts?" I look around the space she's talking about, remembering, as she continues. "If a sex buddy is what you want, he sounds perfect. But make sure you get what you want out of it, no matter how freaky." She laughs.

"I'll go to hell." I laugh bitterly, thinking of my mother's many lectures. After my father died when I was fifteen, she became one with God and preached incessantly about the sins of pornography and promiscuity, really anything of a sexual nature. In reality, she didn't have to worry about me exploring anything at all when I was a teen, as shy as I was.

She continues. "And you never know, maybe it'll turn into something." I hear the hope in her voice; Alice wants everyone to be as happy as she is with Jasper.

"I told you, I'm done. I think I'm going to live the single life for good."

"Okay, so fuck him for a while and see how it goes." She laughs and with a promise to talk later in the week and a 'feel better kiddo' to Timmy, I hang up.

* * *

"Oh Half Pint, you couldn't do it, could you?" Manchu says to me while staring at my table, which contains only one cup. Mine. "B-L-A-C-K."

"I got you your coffee, it's over there." I point to the empty table next to the one occupied by the woman who saw the arm sex, with a nice large cup directly in the center. I smile false-sweetly.

"Well played." Is all he says and goes to retrieve his drink. He doesn't take the hint to sit at that table, not that I thought he would, but comes right back to mine, sitting across from me yet again.

"What did you put in here?" He takes the lid off and gives the fish eye to the steaming liquid.

"If you were afraid of me poisoning you, why would you order me to get your coffee?" I point out. "Besides, if I wanted to do that, I'd do it at the bar where there would be drunk witnesses. You can't believe a word they say."

"I'll remember to get served by your friend from now on." He smiles at me and takes a sip, promptly crossing his eyes and making a gagging sound.

I can't help but laugh. "You are such a nerd."

"Quite possibly. But a nerd with a machine that makes you drool." He drops his voice and wiggles his eyebrows. "Among other things."

I feel my face heat at the mention of his bike and sit up straighter, reinforcing my posture. I can't let my guard down with this guy.

"I'm not having sex with you." I suddenly blurt out, and wonder where the lie came from. It's a defense mechanism, has to be. Reject before you get rejected. My hesitancy about my past relationships and sexual disappointment comes to mind.

Manchu's cup is half way to his mouth, having almost taken a sip, but instead he moves the cup slowly down in front of him. He's looking at me and not saying anything. This makes me nervous. Is he relieved? Was he not even thinking about having sex with me?

"That's a shame." I watch as his hand starts moving across the table, towards mine and I quickly place them in my lap. "Are you sure about that?"

"Yes." My voice betrays me, squeaking embarrassingly at the word.

"Are you currently having sex with someone else?"

"Are you?" I lash out defensively, thrown by the bluntness.

"No." He says it so matter-of-factly as if we were discussing if he likes sports. "You didn't answer."

I huff. "I'm not going to. It's none of your business."

He chuckles, a smug look crossing his face. "Half Pint, I already know the answer. You wouldn't have let me lick your sweet skin last week if you were sleeping with someone else." He stands, taking his cup and my voice with him. He turns to go, but before he takes a step, he turns back around to face me, a devilish look across his face.

"And if you were, well, I have a feeling he's about to be replaced. See you tonight. No convention tomorrow, just so you're warned." He winks, leaving me rigid in my seat and the consistency of jello all at the same time.

* * *

"Em, you know that guy I was talking to last week?" I'm sitting in the office, eating the dinner I brought with me while watching my brother go over the inventory.

"You mean the one you slapped?" Emmett says while looking down at his paperwork, so I throw a French fry at the top of his head. "Gross Iz." He says before putting the fry in his mouth.

"Yeah, that guy. He deserved it by the way."

"Whatever you say Princess." Em adds, using our dad's nickname for me, making me smile. "What about him?"

"You seem to know him. Who is he?" I try to act casual, just a girl eating a burger while I ask.

Emmett puts down his pen and looks at me, thinking. "I met him at Boswell's Harley a few weeks ago. Edward. Why?"

I shrug. "Just haven't really seen him around before, and you seemed friendly."

The chair groans as Emmett tips it back and crosses his hands over his stomach. "He's new in town. He was picking up a part. Did you know he owns a '67 Shovelhead?" I hum non-committedly. "He was asking Steve about good places to hang out so Steve called me over and introduced us." Em shrugs. "I told him to come down and have a beer on me. Seems like an all right dude. What did he do to offend you?"

Not wanting to tell Emmett exactly how the conversation went down, I reply that he was just being a typical guy, catcalling, and the usual.

"Isabella Swan. I've known you your whole life," I roll my eyes at this statement. "And I've seen you slap someone verbally until they ran home crying, but I've never seen you lay a hand on someone before." Emmett looks at me with a knowing look in his eye.

"You like him." He grins.

"No, I really don't." I shove my burger in my mouth to avoid this conversation.

"Yes you do. Izzy has a crush!" The chair squeals as Emmett throws his body forward, pointing at me and taunting.

"Shupf ump, Em." I say through a mouthful of food.

"Yee haw! Do you want me to set you up? Put in a good word? Tell him you're not as bitchy and mean as he thinks?"

I throw him the finger and swallow. "Did you just say, 'yee haw'?"

I stand and gather my trash, while my brother just grins at me. "I swear Emmett, don't you say one word or I'll tell all the female customers you have crabs." That makes him lose his smile and I feel triumphant as I walk out of the office door.

* * *

It's a typical busy Friday night, with the usual cast of characters. There are some regulars Angie and I really like, and we enjoy it when they're able to snag some seats at the bar. We spend the night talking to Sam and Emily, who have recently started dating, having met here at the bar a few months ago. Emily was riding the mechanical bull when she fell off and her hat went flying right into Sam's drink, knocking it all over him. Seems to have been love at first spill.

"So," Angie says while we're making a bunch of cocktails for Kim, the waitress that covers the pub tables and game area. "No Coffee Jerk tonight, huh?" She asks.

"Who?" I bat my fake eyelashes at her. She gives me a look and I pretend to think.

"Manchu." She deadpans.

"Yeah, I don't think he likes that nickname." I smile, thinking of ways to make his life miserable.

"Sure I do. It's better than you not calling me anything at all."

I freeze when I hear his gravelly voice, shouting a bit to be heard over the din around him.

Turning, I see him rubbing his thumb over the side of his facial hair, letting me know he understands where the nickname came from. I'm pissed it doesn't bother him irrationally like Half Pint does me. Then again, his nickname doesn't imply he's a twelve-year-old frontier girl.

"Little late for you, isn't it?" I say, looking over at the bar clock which reads one-thirty. I feel goose bumps cover my body, as I can only surmise that his arrival so near closing means one thing. He's here for me. Me and bike sex.

"I warned you, no convention tomorrow." As he says this, I watch his eyes as they roam down my body and widen when he takes in my attire.

"Half Pint, are you wearing chaps?" I see his Adam's apple bob as he swallows.

I look down at my bare thighs, the leather material mimicking a garter and stocking set, showing off a tiny pair of black spandex shorts I have on underneath them. "Mmm, appears so."

For the second time, I seem to have made Manchu speechless, which thrills me to no end. "I'll send Angie over to get your order, I'm sure you don't want to take any chances." I mimic his gagging from the coffee shop and sashay away, moving my hips a tad bit more than necessary.

Just as I'm starting to not feel nervous and pretty good about that snippet of conversation ending in my favor, I hear him yell, "What would Pa think?"

* * *

I ignore him for the rest of the night and continue serving drinks, using my nerves to aid my abuse on willing customers.

At some point, he's left the bar and is standing by Emmett, seemingly having a casual conversation and I pray that Emmett keeps his trap shut. It occurs to me that Em must think 'Edward' is an all right guy or he would be making sure he never had the chance to speak with me again. This thought worries me.

I start getting antsy as closing time is imminent, because I'm pretty confident that Manchu is here this late specifically for me. Confident? Hopeful? I'm not sure which is worse.

Emmett has already announced last call and the stragglers are clearing out, Angie is on the phone with the cab company making the nightly request for however many rides are needed.

I try to discreetly look for Manchu and see him doing the bro shake with Jared by the door, and I can't believe he didn't even say goodbye. I'm confused; having been convinced he would be waiting for me to leave. Maybe this was just one big epic tease and he's finally gotten the best of me. Maybe he's tired of the chase and has found someone else that's more willing.

As I'm watching him, he looks up at me and smiles, a sexy, sure grin that leaves no question in my mind that he's here for nothing but me. I feel a tightening in my stomach and I know that he's going to be out in that parking lot, leaning against his bike, not surprised in the least when I come to him.

* * *

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**From the planetblue Archive of Awesome Fic List:**

**The Other Way by Honeybeemeadows**

Men, like jewels, require a setting. Even if the setting is the last place you'd expect. Rated M for language and other fun stuff.

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	6. Chapter 6

**Hi! Posting a day early because you guys are all sorts of awesome.**

**Chapter 6  
**

The last customer has left and Jared locks the door. Angie hands the cash drawer to Emmett and starts turning off the TV's. Seth begins turning the chairs over onto the tables and gets ready for the cleaning crew.

Everyone is doing what they normally do without realizing that I'm freaking out and not doing anything.

The energy coursing through my body is making me vibrate. I feel it from my toes to the ends of my hair. Every nerve ending is on high alert. I've never been this keyed up before about a guy, but this is more than that. This feels big, like I'm finally going to get what I've been craving.

There wasn't much to get excited about with Jake. Tuesday and Saturday missionary extravaganza was planned down to the exact minute; right after repeats of Seinfeld finished and before the eleven-thirty news.

My other relationships were similar, completely lacking in any sort of spontaneity. There was no vibrating Izzy like there is at this moment. I didn't have any sexual activity until college, having been scared about sex by my mother in my teenage years, and then I was also too hung up on my issues to voice what I wanted when I finally did start.

But this. This could become something to cross off my fantasy list, something to finally end the boring road I'd been on and I was scared shitless. I don't like scared shitless.

I force myself to help Angie and when Emmett offers to have the cleaning staff take care of the wipe down as he usually does, I find my voice and agree. He looks at me, knowing that Angie and I almost always turn the offer down, but just nods his head and walks to the office.

Angie puts the bottle she was wiping down and throws the rag in the bin. "Great! Up for a bite at Missy's?"

"Angie, he's out there. Waiting for me." I say nervously.

"Who?" I give her a pointed stare and it clicks. "OH! Wow. You have a date?"

"I don't think you can call a hook up at three am a date."

"Did you shave your legs?" She glances at my chaps and confirms that I wouldn't be wearing them if I hadn't groomed all of the necessary places. "Well, what are you waiting for? Go!" She practically pushes me out from behind the bar and I make my way to the office to get my stuff.

I grab my leather jacket and helmet, wishing Emmett a good night. I wore jeans to work but I don't change into them, instead keeping them tucked away in my bag. I just know he's going to want me in these chaps. I take a deep breath and exhale, while I push the back door open. The cool night air hits me and I scan the lot looking for his bike.

Only it's not there. He's not out here.

I'm confused; I could've sworn I read all his signals today correctly. I worked myself up for nothing when I never even fully decided I was going to have sex with him. I find I'm disappointed.

Before I can even think of what to do next, I see a sleek, black BMW pull up; it's tires rolling to a stop before me. The windows are deeply tinted so I can't see inside, but I know who's in there.

The opaque glass slides down and my pulse quickens at the sight of him. He's removed the bandana from his head and his wild hair is screaming at me, aching to be pulled. He's looking at my body, and I watch as his eyes slowly make their way up until they're meeting mine.

"Would you like a ride in my buggy, Half Pint?"

I raise my helmet in my hand, and point it towards my bike. "I have a ride, thanks." I don't want to appear too eager.

I see him look vaguely back at the direction I've pointed and he turns back to me. His eyes look black in the darkness. "Get in, Iz."

My knees buckle and I hope to god he didn't see that. I don't like to be told what to do normally, but that demand went straight to every body part that makes me a girl.

We lock eyes while I try to look like I'm deciding what to do. I know what I'm going to do, but I make him wait. "Where's the bike? I thought you wanted to fuck me on your bike."

He grins devilishly, and runs two fingers over his mustache. "I thought we'd break you in slow."

I raise an eyebrow at him and spit out, "What, so I'm a horse?"

His eyes widen for half a second before he suddenly starts laughing, the sound startling me. He tilts his head back, closing his eyes, while continuing to be amused. Seeing him lose it over something I said endears me and I can't help but smile at his carefree state. He calms down after a moment and rolls his head on the headrest towards the open window, opening one eye to look at me. "Will you allow me to drive you home?"

It's such a sweet, simple request, said so kindly, that I forget the comment he made about breaking me in and nod my head. I'll figure out how to get my bike tomorrow.

* * *

We're driving down Broadway, leaving Music Row and heading towards 21st Avenue, which will lead us to my neighborhood. We're not really talking much, he's got his iPod on and we're listening to some stuff I've never heard before. It's kind of heavy and dark, edgy. The moody soundtrack fits with the black interior of the car and the many emotions coursing through my body. The lightheartedness of the parking lot seems to have been temporary.

I turn my body to face him, trying to figure out if I should say something. Do I just ask him if he's going to fuck me or is he really taking me home? I try to recall ever having to be the pursuer.

"Tell me something about you, Izzy." His eyes glance at me from the side without turning his head my way.

"I think it's best if we know as little about each other as possible." I remain looking at his face, but his expression gives nothing away.

"Ok." He hesitates. "Why would that be?"

I shrug my shoulders and reply. "I barely tolerate you now, I can't imagine getting to know you."

Manchu barks out a laugh. "You're very blunt, you know that?" He looks at me, smiling.

"With some things. I won't apologize for it." I say confidently.

"I would respect you less if you did." He pauses. "I like it, it's refreshing."

We let the silence overtake us, as I've pretty much just laid some sort of ground rule for this fling or whatever this is, and small talk seems stupid.

I watch Manchu's hands as they hold the steering wheel loosely, but confidently. He seems unhurried and his relaxed manner is making me antsy. I begin the replay of those hands on me last week, the fingertips slightly rough for someone that sits at a desk all day. I surmise he does some work on his own bike, perhaps, cutting and nicking his skin much like I do. My leather chaps squeak against the leather of my seat as I move my thighs together, feeling the ghost of his touch on my body.

My mind is alive and nervous with anticipation, and I notice that we're approaching Hadley Park, which signals the start of my neighborhood. I don't want to believe that this is exactly what he said, a ride home.

"I'm going to be a little more blunt." He raises his eyebrows in question, waiting. "Are we going to have sex?"

His answer is immediate. "No."

"No?" I ask incredulously.

"No." His eyes never leave the road.

I sit in my seat, my mouth wanting to open and gape at him when he takes a sudden right turn into the park and pulls the car over under some large trees, a little past the entranceway, but out of sight from the road.

He turns to me in the dark and says in a low, ominous tone, "We're going to fuck. Hard."

All the air wooshes out of me and before I can do anything, Manchu is looming close with his hand behind my neck, silently asking me if what he just said is ok with me. I let my body take over and answer by crushing my lips to his, making him moan and hold my neck tighter. I feel him release my seat belt with his other hand and the freedom permits me to move.

I allow my hands to do what they've been secretly wanting to do but will never admit to him, and they fly to his hair, tangling themselves in the crazy locks and latching on. His mouth is hot and needy on mine, his tongue invading. I don't think I've ever been kissed this thoroughly, and before I can stop myself, I start angling my body towards his, trying to get closer.

His hand moves down my neck and leaves a blazing trail between my breasts, while the other moves to my back, helping me press my body into his. The hand that stayed in front starts inching it's way to my breast, my nipple poking his palm as he feels me through my thin shirt and bra.

The leather squeaks under me as he continues to press on my back while his body moves backwards into his seat, forcing me to lean over the center console. My upper body is pressed to his, the hand on my breast caught between us. His thumb flicks over my nipple lightly before I feel his fingers pinch.

I pull my mouth away and suck in a breath as the sensation washes over me, leaving me trembling in his hold.

He takes that opportunity to lower his head and I feel his mouth clamp over the spot where he squeezed, sucking through my clothes. The feeling is soothing, and I let my head fall back in enjoyment.

His hand moves from my back and slides to my front, palming and pinching my other nipple before heading down towards my waist. Instead of going under my shirt like I expect, he keeps moving down while his mouth moves to my neck, and I feel his fingertips brush over my bare thighs, above where the legs of the chaps start. He turns his hand under and grips my thigh hard, lifting and pulling it across the other one and into his lap.

His mouth reclaims mine hungrily as my upper body turns more completely towards him, my back practically facing the front window. He kneads the flesh of my thigh before moving his hand back and under the leather, running his palm over my shorts before I feel his fingers slide under, teasing the naked flesh.

My pussy is clenching, shouting at me for what it wants and my breathing increases as I feel his hand move completely under the shorts and grip my ass. His other hand has gone back to tormenting me through my shirt and I break my mouth from his.

My words pant into his mouth, less than an inch from mine. "Take my shirt off."

He presses his lips quickly to mine before answering. "Half Pint, I'd love nothing more than to get you naked in my car." He makes a throaty sound and takes his hands from me, reaching for the hem of my t-shirt and pulling it roughly over my head. He wastes no time in reaching around to unclasp my bra, and that follows my shirt to the floor.

He pushes my upper body back and I'm in a really awkward position, but I could care less. The look in his eyes as he stares at my naked breasts and tattooed ribcage makes me feel more wanted than I've ever been in my life.

"I think we need to move this to the back." He doesn't break his stare from the artwork gracing my body as he says this, and when I agree, his eyes snap to mine before he lunges towards me, and grips my newly exposed nipple with his teeth.

The movement is so sudden, the pain so pleasant, that I moan loudly and pull at his head, pressing him tighter to my chest. I feel his mustache scratch the skin of my breast as his whole mouth closes over my nipple and pulls roughly, licking every few sucks until I'm sure it'll remain perpetually hard long after tonight.

"Oh god, I need to be fucked." I exclaim with my eyes closed, enjoying the feeling of his tongue lapping at my nipple.

"I'm going to fuck you like you've never been fucked before."

His words shoot through me like fire and I open my eyes to find him staring hotly at me, his mouth red from using it on my body.

"Get your pretty little ass in the back seat." He moves back and helps me as I scramble a little too enthusiastically between the front seats. As my hips pass through the divide, I feel him bite my exposed thigh and my pussy tightens.

He doesn't follow me through the seats; instead he climbs out of the car and opens the back door, joining me. As soon as the door closes behind him, he pulls my legs towards him, his hands sliding up the soft black leather covering my legs until he gets to my thighs, his fingers lightly tickling the flesh.

I feel completely exposed, my torso bare and my legs spread while his face is inches from where every nerve in my body is bunching and exploding with need. He lowers his head and kisses me there, over my shorts and chaps, but I swear I feel the burn hit directly on my pussy.

"I'm taking these off." His fingers move to the button of my pants but before he unclasps them, I feel him tugging at the shorts underneath. He moves his head sideways and I see his teeth pulling at the material, ripping the spandex apart like it's made of tissue.

I sit looking at him shocked, while he just smirks, pleased with himself, the side of his mustache lifting in amusement. He cocks one eyebrow when he thinks I'm about to protest and that shuts me up.

He pulls the destroyed material out from under the leather that was covering it, and looks down at my newly exposed skin.

"I knew you'd be bare." He murmurs, before bending down and placing his tongue directly over my clit.

"Ohh…ohhhh." I'm immobile as his tongue flicks over me, licking and sucking, his mustache tickling my hot flesh while he imbibes in the moisture from between my legs.

"You taste so good." He mumbles between licks, diving his tongue in and out of me, shallow and then deep, repeatedly.

His teeth move to my clit and concentrate their efforts, biting and nipping. I slap the leather seat with my palm and grab his head with the other, pulling and twisting his hair, making him grunt which I feel in every inch of my overly excited body.

I can feel myself start to come, and I move my hand from his hair to his face. I rub my thumb over the side of his mustache, and his tongue darts out and licks it. I keep my thumb near his mouth, feeling his tongue dive into me. I start to shake and his hand comes up, pressing both of our thumbs directly on my clit while he continues to lick my pussy, sending shockwaves through me and I buck and jolt with the force of my orgasm.

My breathing is uneven as I lessen the grip I have on the seat. He licks me again, moaning as he does so before moving his eyes to meet mine. I can see his mustache glistening in the glow from the lights in the park and it makes me shudder with want.

"Do you want to be fucked in the backseat of a car, professor?" His breath is hot and flaming over my lower body, the air in the car getting steamy.

"Yes. I want to make you feel good too." I say purring, all power behind my voice gone.

"Eating you makes me feel good. Everything about you makes me feel good." I feel his body move and he angles up, hovering over me but not close enough, and I watch my tongue dart out and trace the tip along his wet mustache, tasting myself for the first time.

I must wonder about that fact out loud, as he groans and curses. "Fuck baby, how'd you taste?"

"So good. I could taste my excitement on you." I hum.

"So fucking good." I feel his lower body jerk towards mine, while his erection, which again feels ridiculously big, pokes me in the thigh that has moved to cradle his body.

"Condom." I say as I move my hands to his waistband, giddy with anticipation of touching him naked for the first time.

"Okay, but I'm clean."

"I don't care. I'm clean too _and_ I'm on the pill. Condom." I press my mouth to his neck and feel his throat move on my lips as he swallows.

He chuckles and says, "Yes ma'am", before reaching into the console between the front seats and fishing around. A moment later he's pressed the condom into my hand and is waiting for me to finish taking his pants off.

I put the condom between my teeth and I hear him suck in a breath as I look up at him with heavy eyes. I start to unbutton his jeans and he helps maneuver around so that I'm able to shimmy them down his hips. I notice that he's not wearing any underwear, and I quirk an eyebrow at him. He just smiles and shrugs, leaning in to kiss me on my cheek sweetly, almost chastely.

It's a weird, tender moment amongst a decidedly un-tender affair and when he pulls back and looks in my eyes, I think he realizes it too. He looks down quickly, moving a hand to help me pull his pants down over his hips, freeing him.

Anything tender and awkward from just a moment ago is forgotten when I see his jutting cock pointing directly at me, and I make a sound I've never heard myself make.

He's bigger than Jake. He's bigger than anyone I've had. He's bigger than any picture I've ever seen. I pull the condom from between my teeth.

"You can't be serious." I say stupidly as I stare at it, mesmerized by the bobbing motion the sheer weight of him is causing while erect.

"It's a penis Iz, a cock. That's what they look like." I hear the mirth in his voice and tell him to shut up.

"How the fuck do you walk around with that thing in your pants all day?" I'm really asking cause I can't figure out the logistics.

"I wear really loose pants." His lips move to my chest and I feel my nipples harden even further as the sensation of his mouth and the thought of that monster filling me take over.

"There's no way." I whisper as I close my eyes, leaning my head to the side to allow him better access to my collarbone.

"Trust me, Iz. It'll fit just fine." He pulls back and looks at me. "Do you trust me?"

"No, I don't trust you a bit." But as I say it, my hand is reaching towards him seemingly without my consent. The first touch of my fingers to his bare skin makes him lower his head, moaning into my neck and he moves his hips and cock a bit, searching for where he actually thinks it'll squeeze into.

I finger the head, and run my thumb over the veins that are prominent on the shaft. I'm just about to grasp it fully when I feel him grasp my hips and start to move us so that he's shuffling his body to sit upright on the seat, pulling me over him so I'm straddling his lap. It's pretty roomy back here, so I'm perched more on his knees and his hands find my breasts and start to rub.

"You have beautiful tits, Half Pint. Epic." I start to gyrate slowly on him, the sensation of his fingers pulling at my nipples shooting down to where my very sensitive clit is alive again.

"Put the condom on. I need to slip into that bare, wet, sweet pussy of yours." I open my heavy eyelids and look at his cock, existing heavy and large in his lap.

"I don't think a normal condom will fit you." I'm half joking when he takes the condom from my hand and turns it so I can read it. "Magnum XL. Oh geez."

He chuckles and rips the foil, taking the condom out and throwing the wrapper on the floor. He places the condom at the head and I stop him.

"I thought I was going to do that." His eyes shine at me with lust and I take the condom from him, placing it at the tip. He starts running his hands up the leather covering my legs and I sigh.

"Here goes nothing." I say with a blow to my bangs, and proceed to roll the condom down his substantial girth. It surprisingly fits like a glove.

"Last chance, beautiful. Tell me no or get ready." He says as he moves his thumbs over the insides of my thighs, circling closer with each pass.

I put my hands on his shoulders and raise up on my knees, hovering over his swollen, sheathed cock. His hands move to my hips and his fingers begin to trail up the branches of the cherry blossom tattoo that lead to my chest, before swiping the sides of my breasts and moving back down. On his down stroke, I move my pussy to his cock and together we begin to lower me onto it.

I feel the tip push in, and he moves me back and forth a bit, rubbing the ridges on the head over my clit for a moment. The sensation is incredible, and I have the urge to feel his naked chest in my hands before I settle down on top of him fully. I grab at the shoulders of his shirt and he knows what I want, so he grabs the material, ripping it over his head and dropping the t-shirt next to him on the seat.

I only have a moment to take in the tattoos covering both shoulders and continuing down to his biceps before he moves me to slip in a little further, causing me to look down at us.

He's moving slowly, which I appreciate because I'm not joking about being worried he'd fit. When I estimate him to be about half way in, he stops my hips and starts to grind his own underneath me, causing his cock to rub the inside of my pussy while his thumb moves to touch my clit. He presses his thumb onto me hard and the sensation of his cock on the inside and his thumb on the outside starts me off on a long, shuddery climax.

"Oh god, oh god, oh…" just as I'm hitting the peak of my orgasm, he pulls my hips down and encases himself fully inside my body.

I hear a gasp and I open my eyes to see Manchu with his head thrown back and his eyes closed, his mouth open and soundless as he holds my hips in his big, rough hands.

"Fuck." He pants, "fuck…fuck…fuck." and he starts moving me, back and forth over his hard cock.

"You okay?" He asks as he opens his eyes and searches my face, but he doesn't stop or slow down the pace he's got going.

"Yeah, oh yeah, you were right. Perfect fit." I grunt out and clasp onto his vibrant shoulders, trying to add some leverage to his manic movements.

He continues pumping into me as I move my hips, and I lazily open my eyes and look unfocused past his head out the back window. I startle when I remember where we are.

I am in a car, in a park near my house. Screwing my brains out with a man I could barely tolerate less than twenty-four hours ago. I start exhaling in a breathy laugh, and Manchu narrows his eyes at me.

"Something, AH FUCK, something funny there Half Pint?" He grinds out, his chest heaving and his hair starting to stick to his sweaty forehead. He pinches a nipple, hard.

"Noooo," I say as the pinch of his fingers move directly to my pussy, which makes me immediately stop laughing. His strong legs move me up and down, and he pounds into my flesh. His bruising fingers land back on my hips and I manage somehow to speak. "I just can't believe I'm doing this."

"Believe it. It's so fucking good." I look back to him and he's looking at me through half closed lids, his mouth slightly parted.

He's the sexiest thing I've ever seen.

My fingers ghost over his colorful shoulders and I dig my fingernails in when he hits a spot deep within me. "Yes, so fucking good. The best." I start to keen, my third orgasm fast approaching, and I start to help him move me by pulling on his shoulders and gyrating my hips forcefully.

"That's it, oh that's it beautiful. Ride me. So fucking sexy." He pulls at the leather of my pants, and my knees dig into the seat as I start using my legs to help create the last bit of friction I need.

"Kiss me." He demands, and while I'm a bit thrown at the need for intimacy right then, I let my body collapse against his and as I come, my mouth finds his and I shove my tongue inside, swirling and playing with his until he pulls his head away and looks down at us. He slams me down once, twice, three more times before exploding and grunting, exhaling hotly into my hair that's fallen between us.

Our lungs are working overtime, heaving and trying to calm while we stay joined for what seems like an eternity. The energy needed to remove myself from him is nowhere to be found. If he wants out of me, he's going to have to do the work to remove me.

I feel a hand leave my hip and it finds itself in my hair, pushing the long strands away from my face and gently brushing it behind my shoulder. His eyes are bright and clear, his expression one of bliss.

"What was that you said just a moment ago?" He asks, his breathing starting to even out.

"What are you talking about? I might've said fuck, but that's normal."

"Hmm…no. It was something else. Let me try to recall." He makes a face like he's deep in thought and then he widens his eyes. "I know!" He snaps his fingers.

"Oh god, what?"

His lips curl into a smirk and his hand starts to rub his chest. "You said I was the best."

I narrow my eyes with what vigor I have left. "You're so lucky I don't have the strength to hit you right now."

* * *

Around five o'clock in the morning, I'm lying in my bed unable to fall asleep. After I finally un-impaled myself from his monster cock, we did the requisite passing back and forth of clothes and shuffle of redressing. Me, having never had to dress in a car before, found myself lacking the necessary skills, so I stuffed my bra in my bag and said fuck it. Removing chaps and putting jeans on is another impossibility, but I managed.

Once we pulled up to my house, awkwardness ensued on my part while chivalry on his caused him to insist on walking me to my door, which I argued against. I gave up when he got out of the car and followed close behind me while I dug out my key and released the lock. Turning to say whatever one says to someone after they've been fucked good and proper in the other's car, I was surprised to see him leaning towards me, and even more surprised when he gave me a soft kiss on my cheek. He looked deeply into my eyes before the back of his hand brushed the same spot he just had his lips on. He then turned and walked back to his car, without saying a word.

It wasn't until I was upstairs in my bedroom getting changed that I realized I was missing an article of my clothing.

So that's how I found myself wide-awake at five am, trying hard but unable to recall seeing my ripped shorts anywhere in the interior of his car.

* * *

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**From the planetblue Archive of Awesome Fic List:**

**Renfield and Chiclets by katinki**

Edward Cullen, PhD: brilliant, nerdy, mildly attractive, and obsessed with Blood and Vampires. Oh, and -edited out to comply with summary guidelines, lol-. Join him as he searches for Ms. Right. AH.

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	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

I contemplate sitting around on Saturday with an icepack on my privates, but figure three Advil would be a better idea. I was stuck in the dilemma of wanting to touch myself recalling the previous nights events, and cursing the fact that I was apparently never going to be able to have sex again if the pain reliever didn't resolve this ache.

I'm not even going to begin to try to tell myself that last night wasn't the hottest experience I'd ever had and not worth the strain on my lady parts. Just thinking about the way he looked at me when he started pushing himself inside was enough to make me wiggle on my couch.

I was grateful that we said nothing to each other once his car pulled up to drop me off. I wanted to keep the car sex exactly what it was. A one-time thing, or possibly, the start of the purely sexual relationship I'd decided on. I'd now had my one night stand and was happy that I'd finally crossed something off of the list I hadn't realized I'd been keeping. Well, two if you count the location.

Looking around for a cat that apparently hates me since I made the move to our new house, I contemplated what might happen Friday morning. It was definitely going to be interesting and I wondered how to handle it. Isabella Swan was definitely not afraid of anything, but damned if I knew what to do or say when I saw him again. I voted for nonchalance and decided to put it out of my head.

I look in some of the boxes in the bedroom for Fender, to no avail. I know he's here somewhere and alive, his food was eaten this morning. I admit the unpacked boxes and slight disarray around the house are getting ridiculous, but he didn't need to protest by disappearing. It's only been six months since we moved out of Emmett's house, but I'm a busy woman. I don't have time to do things like unpack and worry about everything being neatly in place.

I apparently do, however, have time to get fucked silly in a BMW near my house in a park where children play.

Feeling guilty, I yell out in the empty room my apologies to Fender for the boxes and try to get one of them emptied.

* * *

My workweek begins with my familiar routine, Monday morning office hours for my students followed by two lectures and a meeting with my department head.

Tuesday, one of my colleagues phones me early, her daughter has gone into labor. We'd been anticipating this, and I had agreed to take over her two classes for a week, her course subject similar to mine. Normally on Tuesdays, I have office hours starting at noon so it's nice to be on campus earlier than usual; I'm able to spend time and catch up with some of people I don't cross paths with often.

While speaking with Tori Goodman, who teaches the Introduction to Sociology courses, the chair next to me pulls out and I'm pleased to see James Reynolds asking to take a seat to my left.

James teaches Sociology of Film, and often helps me find some of the short films and movies, or "porn" as Katie calls it, that I show to aid my lectures. Most of them are obscure art pieces or foreign films, so he's become invaluable in helping me locate the appropriate scene to match my lesson.

I know Tori and James know of each other, but I introduce them anyway to be polite. I'm happy to see him making an effort to be social, joining the two of us. While Tori is very outgoing, James is smart and witty, but only with those he knows.

James clears his throat and begins to speak. "Um, so I got your message yesterday, Isabella, about the footage you need. Do you have time to go through some of the catalogs with me today?" He asks while opening his bottle of water, spilling a bit on the table.

"Sure! I'm excited to see what you've dug up for me." I shift in my chair and try to hide the enthusiasm that's running through me. The footage I've asked James for is about voyeurism. It does mirror a lecture I have coming up, but I'm more interested personally than perhaps I should be.

"What I want to know is when are you going to be teaching a lesson that you can show "The Secretary" as an aid? Love that movie." Tori comments and James starts to choke on his water.

I ask if he's ok and he nods, holding up a finger asking me to wait a moment. Tori looks at him concerned, but goes back to her conversation.

"Seriously, that movie is hot. What does that say about me, dear Professor of Deviant Behavior?" She rests her chin in her hand and smiles at me devilishly.

"That you have a stapler fetish?" I joke while James coughs again. "That you want to crawl on your knees to Dean Temple's desk, only to have him spank you when you don't do it correctly?" I continue while James backs his chair up and bends over, hacking and sputtering.

"You all right there James?" I ask again, and he waves me off.

"Fine, I'm fine. But I should go. I'll see you after your lecture, Isabella." He grabs for his water, almost knocking it over and pushes his chair in, nodding goodbye to Tori. Watching him scurry out of the room, Tori comments about how nervous I seem to make him.

"Me? He's usually fine with me. It was you!" I wiggle my eyebrows at her and she shrugs.

"He's kind of cute, but not my type. I think all of the time you spend with him and his 'catalogs' is starting to get to him." She smiles and I shake my head.

"No, he just helps me, there's nothing going on."

"But there could be. Your single, I assume he is, you have similar interests. Why don't you go for it?"

I look at her questioningly. "How do you know he's single?"

"Trust me. Any man getting laid regularly has more confidence than that guy."

I think of Manchu and my cheeks flame. Is his confidence due to the fact that he sleeps with many women? He had said he wasn't sleeping with anyone currently, but what does that really mean? And how do I know he was telling the truth anyway?

I shake my head, pushing away those thoughts, as they probably won't matter. As far as I know, to him it was a one-time thing. I was okay with that. I got what I wanted and got it out of my system. Hell, maybe we'd get along better now when I ran into him; the sexual tension must be gone.

* * *

James proves to be a huge help, gathering up an obscure film from Denmark focusing on the voyeuristic activities of a couple trying to spice up their marriage. While it isn't what I'd classify as pornography, it definitely has its risqué moments, and I can understand why people assume I watch seedy movies all day.

Trust me, I've watched my share of porn and am the proud owner of a few choice DVD's in one of those boxes I haven't unpacked. The visuals really do aid my teaching, and the board that approved my course description when I presented it agreed.

So suck on that all you people accusing me of teaching porn.

He tells me he'll burn me a DVD and I ask him for an extra, as a back up. Cough. I tell him to put it in my mailbox whenever he gets a chance.

"I could drop it by your office, no problem. I can have it for you" he looks at his watch, "tomorrow. Or if that doesn't work, I could, um, give it to you maybe on Friday night? We could have dinner." James looks at the floor and shuffles his feet; all the while I'm staring at the scene on the monitor he left paused, of the couple spying on their neighbors with binoculars, trying to think of what to say.

"Oh that's really nice of you to offer, James, but I work on Friday's." I wonder if I'd have said yes to James if I hadn't decided not to date at the moment.

"Oh sure, no problem." James hits eject on the DVD player and pulls the disc out, fumbling to get it into its case. He looks dejected.

I place my hand on his arm, trying to stop his jitters. "No, I really do. I work at my brother's bar on Friday's."

James looks up to see if I'm telling him the truth and he must see it in my eyes because he visibly relaxes and smiles. "Oh yeah? Do you bartend? Maybe I've been there, what's the name of it?"

"Steel Horse. It's kind of a biker bar. With some cowboy mixed in." I scrunch my nose because it's hard to describe the place without actually having been there.

"No, I guess that's not my normal scene. I don't own chaps." He jokes.

My eyes widen and a sudden nervous laugher shoots from my mouth, causing James to startle and take a step back. The image in my head of Manchu ripping my shorts off with his teeth has my heart pounding and suddenly tingly in an inappropriate setting.

"Did I say something wrong?" James asks, a worried expression on his face.

"No, oh no. Not at all, I just had a memory of something, it surprised me." He really is a kind, gentle guy and it hurts my heart that I've said no to him. "I would love to go out to dinner with you James, I'm just not doing the dating thing right now." I say gently.

Sounding forlorn, James lets me off the hook. "Oh sure, I understand. I'll drop this in your mailbox."

"Hey, why don't you come by the bar one Friday soon. I'll make you an Izzy special and we'll hang out. Bring a friend."

His face brightens as he agrees, and I leave his office thinking about whom I could maybe set him up with. He really is a great guy.

* * *

I'm awakened by the sound of birds chirping on Friday morning, their sweet spring song making me smile. I yawn lazily and flop around in my sheets, stretching each muscle and enjoying the feel of the super rich cotton on my naked body. Still half asleep, I hum when I feel a hand slide up my ribcage and palm my breast. Ok so it's MY hand, but still. It feels nice. I think about partaking in a little morning friction, which makes me think of my last sexual encounter, car sex, and that in turn makes me remember that I'd be seeing Manchu this morning. All coherent thought leaves me and I feel my body flush. Thinking about Manchu naked in bed is a dangerous thing. If it does end up being a one-time thing, it's best if I just leave it to my memories. I jump immediately out of my warm cocoon to get my thoughts off of him and onto the day ahead.

Pulling the door open at the coffee shop, the first thing I see is Manchu in line, looking at his phone. Before I can decide if I'm just going to leave or sneak in and hide behind the last guy like a coward, he turns to the doorway I'm standing in and his bright green eyes meet my wary ones.

A slow smile spreads over his face and I see him take a quick perusal of my body. I might've dressed a little sexier today than I normally do when teaching, but it's definitely not because of him. I told myself this morning it was appropriate, due to the racy subject matter I was covering today and I'm sticking to that.

Oh boy, he looks good. Dark charcoal suit with a light gray shirt and a wine-colored tie. His hair is in its usual disarray, just hanging out all sexy on his head. He nods said sexy head and jerks it at me, indicating I should join him in line.

"I'm fine waiting, thanks." I quickly get in place behind an older man that's reading a magazine while he waits to be served.

"Ok, sure." He turns back around and I'm surprised he left it at that. Was he only being polite when he asked me to join him in line? Was he now relieved I had obviously decided not to pursue some sort of friendship? Before I could make my mind up over what he may or not be feeling, I hear him call my name.

"Oh, Iz?" He's turned back around, seeking me out. I look at his face and he's sporting a shit-eating grin. Digging into his pocket, he pulls something out and says loudly enough for everyone in the vicinity to hear, "You left your panties in my car." He unfurls his hand and there, hanging off his index finger, are my ripped shorts.

My whole body stiffens and I notice everyone within earshot turn to look at the item in his hand, and then at me.

I do the only thing I can think of, I try to insult him. I walk up and inspect the fabric hanging from his finger, and declare, "They aren't mine, those are the tiny bikini underwear you insist on wearing." I turn to the magazine guy. "I swear, he's constantly taking them off and leaving them wherever he is. You know, the incontinence." The old man looks from me to Manchu and just nods his head.

Manchu smiles and ducks his head, shaking it back and forth, and I'm pleased he's got nothing left to say. The old man prods him that it's his turn, so he turns back around and orders his drink and mine.

I turn and walk to a table just for something to do. I don't want to wait for him to walk to a seat like it's some kind of coffee date. Katie scurries from around the counter and shout whispers at me, "What the hell was that?"

Dropping my head in my hand, I confess. "They're mine. They were in his car."

"Wow."

"I know."

"Ok, he's coming, I'm leaving, but we're not done." She runs away as quickly as she appeared.

My drink is placed in front of me and I mumble a thank you, still with my forehead pressed to my palm. "You're very welcome, Half Pint." I flip my hand up like a salute and glare at him from underneath.

"That was unnecessary."

"What, buying you your 'coffee'?" He uses air quotes. He would.

"Can I have my shorts back please?" I realize I sound whiny so I straighten up and try to compose myself. Stirring my latte nonchalantly, I raise the cup to my lips and blow into the hot liquid.

My lips perk up in amusement as I watch his eyes turn hungry, watching what my mouth is doing.

I blow for another second before sipping, and put my cup down which breaks the spell. Smiling, he regains his snarky attitude. "Finders keepers and all that."

Quirking an eyebrow, I decide to let him have them. "I'm not going to be expected to buy your coffee next week, am I? I don't want to start some weird give and take thing. It's not like we're dating."

Sipping his coffee, he raises his eyebrows in question. "Friday night wasn't a date? This isn't a date?"

"What? No!" I practically shout.

"Hmm. I guess if I had bought you dinner before I fucked you in my car that would've made it a date. Stupid me." He smirks.

Once again, attention is drawn to me without me asking. "Can you keep your voice down, please?" I look to my right and see it's the same lady that's already witnessed way too much. She's laughing.

"I don't date." I say with a hushed voice as I try to keep our conversation to ourselves.

"No dating for Izzy. Got it." He nods his head in affirmation and crosses his legs, as he casually drapes an arm over the back of the chair next to his.

We sip our drinks in silence for a while, and I take my phone out to play with it. It's the new form of looking like you have something to do so you don't look like you're uncomfortably waiting for something.

"So how'd you get the name Izzy? Is it a nickname? Is it short for something?"

I glance up from Angry Birds. "How do you know I wasn't named Izzy?"

"No one would name a beautiful baby girl Izzy."

"That's a personal question. I thought we weren't going to do that."

"I think giving you three orgasms is personal. This is polite conversation."

I can't help but smile a little; he's got me there. I contemplate telling him that his statement is offensive to my parents, letting him think that it is, in fact my given name. Instead I play nice and clarify. "I was named Isabella. No one calls me that. Emmett started the Izzy thing when I was a baby."

"Isabella. Beautiful. Did you know Bella means beautiful?"

"Everyone knows that." I roll my eyes, expecting some comment about how fitting my name is. It's been done before; men seem to think they're original.

Apparently Manchu is in fact unique, and the statement doesn't pass his beautiful lips.

He goes back to sipping his coffee and shoots a smile at the lady next to me who is clearly eavesdropping. His relaxed attitude is starting to annoy me. It's like he has all day to sit here and bother me, unaware of the effect he has on me, and behaving like I don't affect him. Perhaps I don't. He starts talking with the woman, about the book she's got open in front of her.

I watch in stunned silence as he carries on a conversation about the plot, and listen as they dissect the story about some mysterious disappearance of the wife and how they believe the husband is behind it.

Turning his attention back to me, he looks at me over the rim of his cup as he drains it. "Well, I must be going."

"Oh, so soon? Don't let the door hit you on the way out." I smile brightly and wave my fingers goodbye.

He does a little weird bowing thing to the lady next to me who giggles; clearly she has dementia if she's enjoying his little flirtations. "Half Pint," he says to me, "A pleasure as always." He turns and I watch him saunter towards the exit, one hand loosely held in his pants pocket.

Just as he's about to push the door open and exit into the bright sun, I see him turn back to look in my direction, and then start to double back. He takes his time returning, but when he does, he leans slightly over the table and addresses me.

"So if there's no dating, we can still fuck, right?" I'm left stupidly gaping at him, and with a wink and a smile to Ms. Nosy on my right, he leaves once more.

* * *

I knew telling Angie about Friday was going to be a trip, so I called and asked her to come in a little early so we could talk in Emmett's office. I'm not one to just tell people everything, I didn't call to tell Alice, but Ang was here when I was leaving and it was inevitable the questions were going to come.

Thankfully, she asked for no real details so I was able to just go with a basic outline of the night. I did have to divulge the condom size. Sue me, you would too. She asked, of course, what this all meant, and when I told her I was happy with it being a one-night stand, she disagreed.

"I don't get why you'd _want_ it to be a one night stand if it was that good. Why not a four-night stand or hell, a four-month stand? Why is it solely sexual anyway?"

"I'm not dating now, Ang. You know this."

"I don't get why you won't keep your options open. What's stopping you?"

"I don't want to set myself up for failure again." And certainly not with an arrogant, although skilled, man. "I guess I'm enjoying living alone, too. I moved from my mom's house to college, then right to graduate school. I've had roommates my entire life, and that continued when I came here and moved in with Emmett." I shrug. "Jake did me a favor by leaving me with the house."

"No one is saying you have to live with him. Just don't shut yourself down." She pats me on the shoulder, always so comforting.

"I will keep what you're saying in mind, but it wouldn't be him if I decide to try again." I say, adamantly. The only other guy I know well at all is James, and I mentally compare them.

James is kind, smart, and witty. He has a similar occupation, which means we have some similar interests. He's not bad looking, that's for sure. The problem is he's not very confident, which is a turn off, and basically reminds me of the others I've chosen in the past.

Manchu is the complete opposite of James. He's arrogant, opinionated, possesses no verbal filter, and likes to embarrass me. He has a boring job, which means boring conversation. Not that we've conversed all that much, but he was talking books with the woman at the coffee shop this morning so at least he's a reader. He looks hot on a motorcycle, and certainly knows how to play my body like a fiddle.

I realize I'm starting to put Manchu in the plus column and end that train of thought quickly when I tell Angie it's time to get behind the bar.

The hours fly by, the vibe in the bar tonight is electric. Sometimes that happens. For unknown reasons, the mood of the crowd can be elevated as a whole, just as sometimes it can be downcast, causing a mellow night. It's great when everyone seems to be on the same wavelength of wanting to have a fabulous time.

Angie and I dance on the bar a few times, the band tonight playing a mix of current hits and classic southern rock. Each time I'm up on the bar, I confess I'm keeping an eye out for Manchu, but he's nowhere to be found. I feel disappointed and take my emotions out on the coppertop, pounding and stomping my motorcycle boots until I've knocked some glasses over. It only seems to enhance the crowd's energy and I decide to hell with him and have a good time along with them.

I ring the cowbell over the cash register, signaling the start of a game once the band takes a break. For the next ten minutes, I stand on the bar shouting motorcycle trivia questions while Angie hands out free bottles of beer to the customers that shout the correct answer first. It's a fun way to get the crowd to interact with each other, as inevitably the questions spark some great debate.

Seth helps out with the bartending when we do this, so after I jump back down Angie takes advantage of the extra hand and excuses herself to go to the bathroom. Her having to go to the bathroom makes me realize I should too, so when she returns I leave to go to Emmett's office.

I take a little bit of extra time, reapplying some eye makeup that I've sweated off and brushing my hair, which is slick and stick straight tonight thanks to Mr. Flat Iron. I adjust my leather corset, blow my bangs from my eyes and head out of the bathroom and into the outer office.

Emmett and I really are related, I think to myself as I cross the cluttered space. Reaching the door and about to turn the knob, I unexpectedly feel a hand on my shoulder. My first instinct is to scream and kick backwards, until I hear Manchu's voice in my ear.

"Don't be scared, Half Pint." His husky voice shoots a thrill clear through my body. "I'm not here to harm you, I'm going to do just the opposite."

He must sense I've gotten over my initial shock and have realized that it's him because he takes his hand from my shoulder and moves it down the front of my body slowly, brushing over my leather covered breast and settling itself right underneath.

Confusion fills my brain. When did he get here, and how did he get in Emmett's office? When can I turn around and touch him? I start to turn, but he stops me by pressing his body against my back, pushing me into the door. I can feel his erection through our clothes, and the thought of his cock straining in his pants sends a sharp ache through my lower abdomen, giving me chills.

"Don't look at me, just feel." He says close to my ear before his mouth latches onto my bare shoulder, sucking and licking. His hands are moving slowly over me, the one under my breast staying still while the other is making circle patterns on my side, brushing the side of my exposed midriff on every pass.

I tip my head back to rest on his shoulder as his mouth moves to my neck. I feel his teeth scratch against me as he opens his lips and places a biting kiss. Just as I suck in a breath at the sting, his left hand quickly snakes its way under my corset from the top, cupping my breast fully in his hand. He teases and plays with the nipple, making it sharp as the other hand shoots down to my denim miniskirt and starts to move under the hem.

I feel him move my panties to the side and run his finger up and down my slit. "I knew I made you wet, Half Pint, I just didn't realize I could do it this fast." He moans into my ear and places a kiss on my cheek before leaving his head pressed against the side of mine and dipping his finger inside my wet pussy.

We both moan at the feel of him entering me, and he starts to finger me furiously. Between his hand on my breast and his body pressing against me into the door, I'm unable to move. His hips start to grind against my ass, causing his hand to bump into the door putting more pressure on my clit.

"I'm going to make you come so hard, my little deviant." He starts rubbing frantically as he pushes his cock into my backside, my breath coming out of me in shallow pants, my voice hitching and stuttering beneath a moan.

I feel the beginning of my orgasm start and hold my breath, waiting for the final movements of his fingers to take me over the edge. I start to pulse around his hand and he pushes himself into me harder against the door.

"That's it, oh so fucking good, you come so good. _I _make you come so good."

His words end me and my body gives in, coming and vibrating around him. Once it starts to lessen, I feel his fingers start to slow their exploits. I'm breathing heavily into the door, my hands pressed against it on either side of my breasts, one of which is still in his hand.

All too quickly, I feel his hand move out of my panties and smooth my skirt down, while his body disengages itself from mine. The other hand pulls out of my top and pulls the corset back in place.

I'm in a sexual daze as he spins me around and grabs my face in his hands, pressing his mouth forcefully to mine, consuming me and taking my breath away before quickly tearing his face away.

"Bella. Mi piace sentirti venire mentre sono dentro di te." His eyes sear into mine for a moment before he tilts my head down and places a sweet, soft kiss to my forehead.

And then he leaves me, walking out the door and closing it behind him.

* * *

*** **_**Beautiful. I love to feel you coming while I'm inside you.** - thanks to Camilla10 for help with the translation!_

* * *

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**From the planetblue Archive of Awesome Fic List:**

**Osa Bella by Myg**

Bella is a school counselor, but Edward is a vampire posing as a student. Will Bella defy her head and follow her heart? Or will she conquer her desire and do what she believes is right? Not your daughter's/niece's/little sister's Twilight. Angsty.

* * *

**A/N: Hi Guys! Real quick note, Deviant has been nominated for Fic of the Week over on the fabulous Lemonade Stand. I'm honored to be part of such a worthy group of fics. Please go show your support and vote for your faves. Thanks to all of you. Without you, this fic wouldn't be getting half the attention it is.**

_**Reviews make me happy!**_


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Updates were fail here on Monday, please make sure you didn't miss chapter 7!**

**Chapter 8**

After returning to the bar disheveled and in a bit of a trance, Angie admits that she told Manchu where to find me. She has some romantic notion that he wanted to surprise me with a hug and a kiss, hoping that I'll cave and want to date him. I think she can tell from my appearance that it turned into a bit more. I call her a traitor; she doesn't seem to be insulted. I guess I can't fault her for that; my big smile takes away any threat my name-calling tried to convey.

Manchu was nowhere to be seen for the remainder of the evening. I had to admit that it thrilled me, the surprise ambush to give me an orgasm, and the suddenness in which he left. I was intrigued by the Italian phrase, and wished I'd had the wits about me to ask him what it meant. I tried to scribble it on a piece of paper, but I'm sure I didn't get it right. I was half stupid at the moment, let's be honest.

I was confused about the sweet kiss, however. It wasn't the first time he'd shown gentleness towards me, and I wondered where that came from. It seemed out of place with his sexual dominance and arrogance.

I found the two parts to him quickly turning me into a puddle of sexual need.

* * *

I get a call from Alice on Tuesday morning, her usually chipper self severely downcast. It's been a week since we've spoken, and I wonder at what's been going on. I apologize to Alice for not being in touch. Alice, being the friend she is, blamed herself for not calling to tell me what had been happening.

It had just all snowballed so fast, she starts, and I realize quickly that this is far from a social call.

When Timmy unexpectedly began to vomit on Thursday, Alice brought him back to Dr. Adams, who quickly became concerned with this new symptom and the ongoing lethargy. As Alice explains it, upon further examination, the doctor decided that his weight loss from this check up to the last was significant enough to worry about. The vomiting was worrisome also, being a contradictory incident since he'd had a loss of appetite. The doctor had wanted to perform a few tests, which he'd done immediately.

Alice tells me that the blood and urine tests showed there were abnormal cells, and that she and Jasper quickly took him in for further testing in the forms of a CT scan and X ray, the scans showed there was a mass on his kidney, which they had biopsied.

My heart clenches at the news, and my grip tightens on the phone as I sit heavily on the couch. Before I can fall to pieces, Alice tells me she needs me to come with her to the specialist's office, a Dr. O'Malley, to watch the boys. She's unsure if they'll need to see Timmy again, and obviously both she and Jasper need to be in the meeting with the doctor when they get the results. I agree without hesitation and call right away to cancel my class for the afternoon.

Later on, my nerves get the best of me and I arrive early at the Monroe Carell Jr. Childrens Hospital, which is located adjacent to Vanderbilt Medical Center, not far from the university. I'm not too surprised to see Alice and Jasper, already there.

I walk to them and immediately pull Alice into a hug, grabbing Jasper with my other arm. Alice lets out a shaky laugh and tells me to pull myself together, before she starts another crying jag. I do as she says and with a squeeze of Timmy's hand, I go over to where Tommy is playing with the Thomas the Train setup on a table.

I look around the cheery office; everything is happy and painted in bright colors, the TV in the corner tuned to cartoons. There are toys everywhere, and little seats made for children's sizes that have bugs and flowers painted on them. The effect is deceptive, a happy place where serious conditions get diagnosed. The sign on the door had indicated a partnership of doctors, both surgical as well as Hematology and Oncology. I try not to think about what all of this could mean and concentrate on pushing my engine up the hill to unload the shipment Tommy put on one of my train cars.

A while later, we all look up at the sound of the inner door opening and a pretty blonde nurse calls for Alice and Jasper, stating that Dr. O'Malley is ready to see them. I stand and go to where Timmy is sitting, pulling him into my side and giving his parents a confident smile.

I act happy for the boys, reading a book to them in my most cheerful voice on the outside, while my body churns on the inside. I try not to go down the road of what ifs, and falter in my thinking when a little girl enters the waiting room with her mother, a pretty scarf tied around her head, and big blue eyes dwarfed by shadows.

I've been around enough to know what chemotherapy does to someone, and to see the effects on a young child are heartbreaking. I try to reign in my emotions and give the tired mother a smile, which she returns. They sit, and we all exist in this little room together.

A few minutes later, the inner door opens again. I'm expecting the nurse, so when I look up, all my breath leaves my lungs and my heart starts to pound at the sight before me.

Manchu, dressed head to toe in blue scrubs, has come through the door instead.

My mouth drops open as I watch him walk to the little girl and crouch down, so that he's eye level with her. "Molly! How's my favorite patient doing today?" He says in an excited voice and gives her a big smile.

"I'm fine Dr. Cullen. I got a new puppy." Molly holds the stuffed animal she'd been clutching tightly and passes it to Manchu.

"That's a neat looking puppy, I bet he's a lot of fun. Just don't let him pee on the floor." He grins and pats the dog's head before giving it back to her.

She grabs it and laughs. "Don't be silly. He's not a real puppy. Mommy says I can't have one until I'm better."

A look passes between Manchu and her mother; before he answers that he couldn't tell the puppy wasn't real, much to the little girl's delight.

"Nurse Rose is going to come get you in a moment and we'll start your treatment, okay?" He stands again and starts to walk backwards across the floor.

"Okay."

I'm still staring and gaping, dumbfounded as the moment he's turning to go back to the door, his gaze falls in my direction. I see his steps falter a bit as his eyes widen, but just as quickly he recovers and exits through the door he came from.

I feel my armpits start to sweat and my head feels clammy. I do my best to not show how this jarring moment has affected me, and continue reading the story to the boys albeit, a bit distracted.

Nurse Rose reappears and calls for Molly, who grabs her mother's hand and walks through the door. There's no activity in the office for a few minutes, until Rose goes to the receptionist's desk I can see through the glass partition. She's standing, handing some charts back and forth with the front desk girl and I continue watching as Manchu comes up beside her and starts talking to them both. He glances up at me through the glass and our eyes meet, mine still showing shock I'm sure, and his oddly devoid of any emotion that I can see. He continues his conversation, glancing at me once more before retreating out of my view.

I start to look around for a business card or who the magazines go to and finally see the practice's names on a sheet by the desk, which reads:

Dr. Garrett O'Malley, Pediatric Surgery

Dr. Edward Cullen, Pediatric Oncology

Well fuck me.

* * *

Everything but concern for Timmy's diagnosis leaves me as we go back to Alice and Jaspers apartment to discuss what's going on in detail. As soon as Jasper takes the boys to their room to play, Alice breaks down and tells me what the doctor said.

"It's called Wilms' Tumor. It's a form of cancer they think is genetic, but have no direct findings on how it could trace from Jasper or my lineage. I had an aunt who had breast cancer, but I don't know." She takes a stammering breath. "Oh god, it's prevalent in twins, so they want to check Tommy out as soon as possible." Her head drops to her hands and she leans forward on her knees.

She continues shakily, filling me in on the plan. Surgery to remove the tumor is being scheduled for later in the week. She further explains that the success rate if the cancer hasn't spread to the surrounding tissue or lymph nodes is high. It's possible they'll have to remove the whole kidney, but won't know for sure until they've started the surgery. If no other cancer cells are found, it's possible he won't need anything further than the removal, and will be just fine with a partial and full kidney, or just one if they remove the whole organ.

"Cancer. My baby has cancer." Alice weeps to me, and I envelop her in a hug.

"It sounds like a pretty good prognosis, let's not get ahead of ourselves. I'm thankful they're moving so quickly." I think of the little girl in the office, and shake my head from furthering my thoughts of seeing my little Timmy that way.

I rub her back while we discuss when Tommy will be tested, and I vow to her that I'll be there every step of the way, for whatever she needs. We sit; holding each other for a while until she brushes the tears from her face and puts on a happy smile, calling her boys down for some ice cream for dinner, the only thing Timmy will attempt to eat.

* * *

As I'm pushing the coffee house door open, latte in hand, it unexpectedly gets lighter as I realize someone has pulled it from the outside at the same time. I begin to apologize for stumbling until I look up and find myself face to face with Manchu. Sorry, Dr. Manchu. He's about to open his mouth but I brush by him, a bit dazed and having no idea what to say.

I feel his hand on my arm, and I look at it pointedly until he removes it. "Will you come inside, please, and sit with me?" He asks.

"Why didn't you correct me?" I ask, steely reserve in place. I'm not sure what i'm feeling, if I'm more upset about the deception or about the fact that he didn't acknowledge me in the waiting room.

He sighs. "Will you please come sit?" His eyes are tired, and they break my resolve so I nod and walk to our usual table in the back. I say hello to Ms. Nosy and throw my briefcase on the bench beside me.

I'm surprised when I see him sit right after me, without ordering his coffee first.

"So…" For lack of anything better to do, I start fiddling with an empty sugar packet that's been left on the table, examining it like it's a lost artifact.

"I didn't lie or anything, so you have no right to be upset."

I'm surprised by the bite in his tone. "You said you were an accountant." I answer back, shrugging nonchalantly.

"I never said that, you assumed it."

I look up sharply and start to protest.

He cuts me off mid objection. "Yes, you did. I never once told you my occupation."

I think back to our conversations, joking about a protractor convention, telling Angie that my ink would put his calculator loving body into cardiac arrest, the conversation that accountants couldn't own motorcycles, and realize he's right.

"Fine, you didn't. But you didn't correct me either." I point out.

He shakes his head, "No, I didn't."

My eyes soften, and I continue. "Why would you want me to think you did something else? What you do is amazing. I can't imagine having the strength it must take, where it breaks your heart every day. Just sitting in that waiting room killed me."

"I do what I have to do." He says like it's no big deal.

"You save babies." I say, incredulous to his closed attitude.

"And I lose some. I'm not a miracle worker." His voice is strangely robotic.

"To some, you are." I feel my hand move to touch his, and I'm surprised when he pulls away.

He opens his mouth to speak, then closes it again. After a brief pause, he talks, without looking at me. "I enjoyed having you think I was an accountant. I got to see the real you, a ballsy shit kicker."

"I don't understand. What does that have to do with what you do for a living?" I pull my rejected hand back and place it in my lap.

"Just now, your whole demeanor changed towards me when we started discussing what I did for a living. You never would have forgiven what you believe to be a deception if you found out I was a dentist." He looks up, meeting my stare with fire. "Every woman I meet, as soon as she finds out I'm a pediatric oncologist, gets the same sympathetic look in her eyes and puts me up on a pedestal. I become the father of their future children without them even getting to know me first." He spits out, looking at me angrily.

He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. "I was having fun with a woman for the first time in a long time, one who challenged me and fought me. Not one that thought I walked on water."

I glower at him, listening to his words and feel myself starting to get angry at his egotism rearing its head yet again. "How dare you assume I want you to father my children just because of what you do for a living. I think I've made it clear I'm not in this for a relationship. That hasn't changed."

He laughs in disbelief, shaking his head, and looks down at the table. His assumptions start to rile me up. I answer coolly. "I'd rather I didn't know what you did, honestly. I preferred thinking you were an arrogant asshole, instead of someone with a heart. It made my life easier." My blood pressure rises, and I take a breath, continuing. "I was having fun too, until you decided I was too shallow to be honest with. In fact, this whole conversation just took my fun and excitement away." I regret it the minute I say it, but damned if I'm going to admit I just let my pride take over, causing me to lie.

The expression on his face has my stomach twisting and my heart rate elevating. Excitement gone? Hell no, just looking at him aggravated with me sends my private places into seizures.

We both fall into silence, glaring at each other and sitting with our arms crossed, two of the most stubborn people ever born.

"I guess that's it then Professor, it was nice knowing you." The disinterested look he's taken on falters for an instant, his features revealing sadness. Just as quickly, he reels it in and his bored eyes return. He stands; turning to the woman constantly next to us who knows way too much. "Sorry you had to be privy to that, can I buy you a cup of coffee to make up for it?"

I look over to see her frowning. She shakes her head no, and thanks him.

He begins to leave, but turns his head over his shoulder towards me, looking at me with narrowed eyes. "You excite me like no one ever has before. I'm sorry to hear it's no longer the same for you."

Ms. Nosy and I both sit speechless as we watch him quickly but confidently walk to the door and exit the shop.

"For a professor, you sure can be stupid." I hear her say next to me.

* * *

Apparently, the disinterested look he gave me as he said goodbye wasn't an act. I must've imagined the fleeting melancholy, as he's nowhere to be found that Friday night at Emmett's.

* * *

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**From the planetblue Archive of Awesome Fic List:**

**Awake in the Infinite Cold by quothme**

Sometimes the fruit is forbidden for a reason. A mélange of Twilight and How to Be, with an Artward who so carefully and so softly sneaks under her skin and into her soul. Not your typical E/B romance. Complete.

**A/N: Sorry for another shout out from me, but I just wanted to thank everyone who voted for Deviant for Fic of the Week over on The Lemonade Stand. I'm a proud winner, thanks to you guys!**

_**Reviews make me happy!**_


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Timmy's surgery is scheduled for today, the Wednesday after their first appointment with Dr. O'Malley, so I rearrange my classes and stay home with Tommy for the day.

Tommy, thankfully, has gotten all of his tests cleared, but he will continue to be tested every six months for the foreseeable future. This news is a weight off of all of our shoulders, and we take that piece of good fortune as a sign that everything else will turn out all right.

Tommy and I occupy ourselves with the Wii, and while he mostly behaves like he normally does, he sporadically asks me a question about his brother. I can see he's upset and confused about his twin. He knows he's sick, but obviously the details have been kept from him. Alice and Jasper have been careful to not devote all of their attention towards Timmy while they've been dealing with this, but it's impossible for him not to have been affected by the behavior of his parents.

There have been a few times where I wish I could talk to Manchu. He's the only person I know who would be able to really answer any questions I have about Timmy's condition and prognosis. But I screwed that one up royally. By making him think I had become uninterested in having sex with him, I not only lost that, but his presence altogether. I just knew I wouldn't be seeing him at the coffee shop any longer since I made it seem like I didn't even want to talk to him. A fact that made me more depressed than this health crisis already had.

Finally, Jasper calls the house saying that the surgery went well, and that Alice was glued to Timmy's side as they wait for the anesthesia to wear off. Dr. O'Malley seemed to think they had gotten the entire tumor while leaving enough of the kidney intact. Jasper mentions that Dr. Cullen was on hand to assess the remaining tissue and organ, and was also confident they had removed it all. They performed a biopsy of the surrounding cells and would know soon if any further treatment was necessary.

I breathe a sigh of relief and hug Tommy to me, the little boy picking up on my emotions and hugging me back.

* * *

I'm not surprised on Friday morning when it's Katie sitting across from me and not Manchu. I'm filling her and Ms. Nosy in on the details of Timmy's surgery. Mimi, as she introduced herself, is joining us in conversation today. Having been a part of Manchu's and my extremely ridiculous antics, I feel like I've known her forever.

The biopsy results are due back today, and Timmy should be able to return home sometime next week, barring any infection issues or complications.

Every time the door opens, it's like a beacon drawing me in. I tell myself when I'm continuously disappointed that it's for the best; he really was an arrogant jerk most of the time I interacted with him. I can't stop thinking of the few good, no, excellent moments we had, though.

The two women make my Friday morning enjoyable enough, but I try not to make faces at the latte that just doesn't taste as good as it used to.

* * *

My mood behind the bar tonight is mellow; I'd yet to hear from Alice or Jasper despite the voicemail I left both of them. I hoped it wasn't a bad sign. Angie knows I'm worried and takes more command of the night, hopping on the bar to give out the shots and to dance, pulling random female customers up with her which is always a huge crowd pleaser.

The band tonight is a group of Nashville natives, an original band playing their own unique sound, and I predict they won't be playing bars for long. Everyone seems to be enjoying them and the floor in front of the low stage is crowded.

I'm making a batch of SoCo and lime for a group of girls when Emmett calls out to me that Alice is on the phone. I quickly serve the drinks and wipe my hands on my rag, grabbing the cordless receiver from him, and move to his office to get some quiet and hopefully good news.

The biopsy confirms Timmy has no trace of cancer. I start to cry, which sets Alice off, and we're blubbering and making all kinds of plans for when he recovers. Ridiculous things like taking him on an African Safari, but it makes us feel good that we can plan at all.

I feel so fantastic when I return to the bar that I jump up and start dancing, kicking my cowboy boots up and stomping them hard on the coppertop. The band finishes one song and before they can start their next one, I lean over precariously to ring the bell above the register. The crowd quiets and I announce a free shot for everyone, much to Emmett's gaping dismay. The customers line up and Angie and I pour the liquor into their waiting mouths, while Seth gives out plastic shot glasses to those not wishing to be doused.

I lean down and motion Emmett over, and once I tell him the news, he hugs me and joins in the giveaway, taking a bottle of Tequila and a handful of shot glasses over to the game area, to share in the exuberant mood. I yell that the shots are on Malice, which was Alice's nickname when she worked here. The regulars that knew her yell louder, and I grab my phone to take a shot of the crowd cheering her, not that they really know what the occasion is.

Once the shots are doled out and Angie and I are back to our regular bartending, I look at the picture I took, intending to forward it to Alice's phone. I stop mid-send when I see something in the picture I can't believe I captured. I take my fingers and blow up the picture, and there, in the back of the bar near the door, is Manchu.

Manchu with the pretty blonde nurse.

I snap my head up to look towards the doorway and see them there, talking and looking towards the band.

He wouldn't.

My good mood is gone in a flash as I eye Rose. She's even prettier out of her nurse gear. No wonder he didn't acknowledge me in the office. I can't imagine he lied when he said he wasn't sleeping with anyone else, but yet again, I don't really know him. Oh god, what if he cheated on her with me? I begin to feel panic creeping in; I've never been the other woman and that certainly is not on my fantasy list.

The panic I feel turns to something else, as I watch them lean close together and smile at each other. A twisting in my stomach signals an illogical feeling of proprietorship. I can't be jealous, I just can't.

I become a girl and side eye Rose for a minute or two, until I realize I'm being irrational, so I tamp down my feelings and get back to my job. I'm hyper aware they're here, however, and I may or may not make a mistake or two in the drink orders.

I'm finishing ringing up a tab that's being closed out when I turn back to give the card and receipt to the customer. Next to the guy cashing out, stands my rival. She's got what I deem an obnoxious smile on her face, but someone else would mistake for friendly. I notice Emmett eyeing her ass and roll my eyes at him.

"What can I get for you?" I say to her amiably enough, ever the professional.

I'm surprised when she holds her hand out to me in greeting. "Izzy, my name is Rose. You can stop eyeballing me. I'm Edward's sister." Her smirk matches his, and I have to admit that when I look closer, I see the family resemblance.

All I can do is look chastened as I shake her hand and return her greeting. "That obvious, huh?"

"You give good glare." She laughs and I chuckle, slightly embarrassed. "I've been served that look from strangers that assumed the same thing." She looks down and pulls her hand from mine, which I didn't realize I was still holding. "He's never felt the need to introduce me to someone he was interested in before. He wanted to in the office, but he says he was caught off guard." She shakes her head and smiles. "He's right, you're very pretty."

The statement that he'd never introduced his sister to anyone before gets stored away for later examination since my brain is occupied by other thoughts. I have no idea why he's here, or if he's here for me at all, regardless of what she just said. I thank her for her unexpected compliment and ask what she'd like to drink.

"I want a biker drink. Something rough. I've always wanted to be a biker chick!" Rose exclaims with excitement in her eyes, while looking around the bar at the motorcycle and cowboy décor. I see Emmett's eyes widen at her statement and stifle a laugh.

"You got it. Do you like tequila?" I question.

"Love it!" Behind her, Emmett places his hands over his heart and makes a fainting motion. I shake my head at him and turn to make her a Cactus Bite.

As I'm shaking the cocktail, I watch Manchu slide up next to her and lean his long frame against the bar. His eyes are intense and he makes no secret of the fact that he's watching my boobs move as I use the shaker. A thrill runs through me, and I feel my nipples instantly harden. I can tell when he's noticed, as his eyes narrow and shoot to my face. I look away before we make eye contact, and grab a glass to pour the drink into. Sliding it to Rose and with no other option, I place my hands on the bar and quirk an eyebrow at him in silent question.

He smoothly rubs his facial hair with two fingers, knowing I like it, and begins to speak. "I'm an arrogant asshole, Half Pint, that much is true. But I'm an arrogant asshole that always gets what he wants."

My knees threaten to buckle at his words, his tone dark and dripping sex. "And what is it that you want?" I manage to force out.

Expecting he's teasing and about to say the word 'beer' or something, my mouth waters when he continues in a low voice.

"I'd like the opportunity to fuck you again."

The whole crowd evaporates and all I can see is Manchu, looking at me like I'm something to eat. I don't know if he expects an answer, but the tightening in my stomach tells me that I want exactly what he wants.

I meet his burning gaze for a moment, before revealing my thoughts. "I'll let you."

We continue to stare at each other for a moment, absorbing and accessing, until I'm ripped from my dreamlike state by Angie ringing the bell. I hadn't noticed the band went on break, and it's trivia time.

"Excuse me, but I am trying to work here." I smirk at him, probably unsuccessfully, but he returns his own and it's a silent gesture that we've come to a truce. I'm relieved that we didn't need to have some sort of draining conversation, re-hashing our argument, to get back to where we were.

Manchu keeps his position holding up the bar for a while, and I see him introduce Emmett to Rose. They kick up a conversation near his post at the end of the bar and Manchu spends his time watching me.

An hour or so later, he nods to me, signaling he wants my attention. I stand in front of him as he says, "Seven thirty tomorrow, be ready, I'm going to pick you up."

I'm a bit miffed by his assumption. "I have plans tomorrow night." I throw back at him. Just as I finish speaking, and like she was listening in, Angie comes over to cancel our dinner plans.

I'm left flabbergasted, staring at my supposed friend as she just grins at me then Manchu, and saunters away.

"Looks like you're free now." He says, full of overconfidence.

"Bitch." I mutter under my breath at her retreating back, only to see her waving to me from behind her head. I turn back to Manchu. "I thought it was clear, whatever this is, isn't going to turn into dating."

"Oh, this isn't a date. I'm not even going to feed you." He smiles. "Food anyway."

My jaw aches at the insinuation, thinking about his girth. "I'm not letting you pick me up either."

"Fine." He grabs a pen and writes on a cocktail napkin, sliding it over to me, tapping his knuckles against it. "Seven thirty."

"Is this your home address?" I ask, looking at the street name. Belmont Boulevard, near the University. Ritzy.

"Yes, but don't worry, you're not even going to get a tour." He winks at me before turning away, taking Rose's empty glass for her and setting it back on the bar. I see her say something to Emmett, and he punches what's obviously her number into his phone. She waves to me before they walk to the exit, Emmett watching her ass swing as they go. He looks back to me and just raises his eyebrows with a stupid grin on his face.

"I'm going to marry her."

* * *

Pulling up in front of Manchu's house, my jaw drops open. The street is full of grand Victorian homes, and his is no exception. I decide to pull my bike up the sloping driveway and park in front of the detached two-car garage, behind the BMW, instead of leaving it on the street. Placing my helmet on the handlebars, I quickly pull my stiletto ankle boots out of my bag and change out of the necessary motorcycle boots, which I leave on the driveway next to my bike.

Moving up the walkway towards the house, I'm jealous of the huge wrap around porch that encases the entire front of the gray house. The windows are grand with black plantation shutters on either side, while pops of blue on the window boxes add another dimension. There appears to be no draperies, the whole house lit up and open, showing me the inside before I've entered.

I run a hand over my hair, praying I don't have helmet head and ring the bell. One of the extremely tall double doors opens, and there stands Manchu, sexy and masculine in a ripped t-shirt and jeans. I look down and see that his feet are bare, and even that part of him makes my body parts tingle.

He rests his arm on the side of the door, watching me look him up and down. His other hand moves under the hem of his shirt and I can see his happy trail leading the way over his stomach and disappearing into the waistband of his low-riding jeans. Umph.

I look up to see him smiling at me, letting me know I've been caught ogling. I just shrug and don't deny it, and he laughs, taking a step back to usher me in. "Hi." is all he says.

"Hey." I say back, a bit nervously. I take off my leather jacket and he grabs it, carrying it with him as he starts to walk. Before we get very far, a big, slobbering bulldog walks over and stands next to him.

"This is Roscoe." He says as he pets the dog's head vigorously. "Do you like dogs? I didn't think to warn you."

"He seems harmless enough. I love dogs. Do you smell my cat?" I ask Roscoe and bend down, sticking my hand out for the dog to sniff, which he does rather disinterestedly. I pat him on the head and stand back up.

"Cat, huh? Makes sense." When I look at him in question, he motions between us. "Cat and dog owners. Oil and water." He laughs. "Come on, I know I said I wasn't going to feed you, but I think a glass of wine is okay." I follow him towards the right of the house, and take a quick look around.

The dark wood flooring of the large entranceway has a rustic quality to it and seems to cover the entire downstairs. I peek behind me into the formal living room, large and comfortable, and very neat. Beyond that room, I see steps leading down towards a hallway at the back of the house. Separating the two front halves of the house is a large stairway painted white, with the same dark wood planks making up the steps.

I catch up to him and pass the staircase, moving into the other side of the house. There is a huge comfy couch and flat screen TV, obviously the den, but what makes my mouth drop open is the enormous kitchen attached. The cabinets are all white with some glass and solid doors mixing together, while the countertops are black granite. The same stone covers the large island that has a pot rack overhead, and the breakfast bar as well.

After tossing my jacket on the back of the couch, he motions to a chair at the island, where I sit under the old fashioned exposed light bulbs hanging from their industrial fixtures. "Red okay?" He asks as he moves to a floor to ceiling wine rack, removing a bottle and lifting it up for me to see.

I agree, and watch him twist the opener to release the cork, the tail of his dragon tattoo peeking out from under his sleeve as his bicep moves. I silently moan as the veins in his forearm undulate under his skin, strong and utterly manly. I take a deep breath to calm nerves I have no reason having, unless you figure in the fact that I'm in his home, which feels decidedly personal.

He stands behind the breakfast bar and hands me a glass. "Cheers." He clinks his glass to mine, and we sip. He swirls the liquid around for a moment, until he takes a deep breath and starts speaking. "When I'm in a relationship, I sleep with one woman at a time. I would hope that you feel the same?"

And he calls me blunt. "We're not in a relationship."

He raises an eyebrow and lowers his chin, looking at me like I'm daft. "We're about to start a sexual relationship, if I'm not mistaken. You don't want to date, so this is all about sex, am I right?"

Does that mean he would prefer to be dating? No, he would've said that, wouldn't he? I clear my head, what he wants doesn't matter. Only what I'm getting out of this does.

He continues. "I'd like to make a proposition."

I look at him warily. "Maybe. What is it?" Taking a sip of wine, I watch as he does the same.

"For each orgasm I give you, I get to ask a personal question."

I practically spit my wine out. "How many do you expect me to have tonight?"

"Tons." He says it like it's a normal thing to expect. "But I mean every time." I watch him take a swallow while I ponder his request. "Some personal interaction will make everything more enjoyable. I can't _not_ know you."

I contemplate his words, and think he's probably right. I've never done this before, and assume he has, so he's the expert. "Do I get the same deal?"

He shrugs. "Sure. Although I bet I learn a hell of a lot more about you than you do me." He smiles devilishly.

"You haven't experienced my oral skills yet." I mentally pat myself on the back when he widens his eyes slightly. "So how many women have you had this kind of an arrangement with?" I ask.

"You, Half Pint, are the first."

My eyes widen; I must've heard wrong. "You're joking."

"Why would I joke about that?"

"You just seem to know what you're doing, like you have experience at this sort of thing." I shrug, trying to contain my surprise at his admission.

His eyes shine as he answers. "Oh, I know what I'm doing all right."

I roll my eyes at him as he pours some more wine in our glasses and I turn to look around the space. "No curtains?" I ask.

"I like the view. You can see the sunset over the houses across the street since I'm slightly elevated. Some nights, like tonight, it's amazing." He's right, the sky is that extraordinary mélange of pink and purple that makes up dusk. "The curtains automatically close at night." I look up and see that hidden from the outside, at the very top of the windows, is draped fabric that apparently drops down to the bottom.

"Well, your house is stunning."

"I know." I roll my eyes at this, but he continues. "But not as stunning as you." He looks me over, taking in my tight jeans and black t-shirt, stopping at the words gracing the front that he hadn't noticed yet.

"Use Me, Abuse Me, Just Don't Bruise Me" He reads aloud and barks out a laugh. "I can't promise anything."

He walks up next to me, his closeness making me heady, and extends his hand. "Shall we?"

"Before we go any further, I just wanted to say something."

"Go ahead." He lowers his hand and rests it on the countertop.

"Thank you, for Timmy." I say simply, knowing he'll understand why I won't gush.

He seems a bit surprised, but answers immediately. "You're welcome."

I fear I've altered the mood, until he extends his hand again, and I place mine in his, the sensation of his touch coursing through my body.

I watch as he raises our hands, bringing mine to his mouth, and places a kiss on the back. "I have a surprise for you."

* * *

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**From the planetblue Archive of Awesome Fic List:**

**The Elusive Mr Cullen by dariachenowith**

Bella is a high class escort, Edward her newest client. They soon realize that there's more between them than great sex and witty conversations. While Bella doesn't believe in fairy tales, her life seems to be turning into one fast. Or is it? AH/OOC

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	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

"_I have a surprise for you."_

* * *

I follow Manchu to the grand staircase where he pulls a gate out and props it up behind us. "Sorry Roscoe, go to your bed." I watch as the animal lopes away and moves towards a big dog bed in the corner of the family room.

We continue up the stairs that turn halfway up to the right, and reach the landing of the second floor. Continuing down a hallway, I look around at the walls, which have family photos mixed in with artwork. I catch a brief glimpse of a few; Manchu in cap and gown flanked by an older man and Rose, Manchu and Roscoe in a park, Manchu surrounded by a group of happy children with skin the color of melted chocolate. There are a few doors we pass that are closed, and I wonder how many of them are bedrooms, and what he does with all the space. This is a huge house for a single guy.

He stops walking when we get to the end of the hall that contains a set of open double doors, which he gestures me through.

It's obviously his bedroom; the bed takes up a huge amount of space in the middle. The big cherry wood sleigh bed is covered in plush white bedding. The remaining furniture matches the wood and the floor is covered in a thick beige carpet.

"A bedroom, huh? I thought maybe you were leading me to a playroom."

"Not my style." He says from behind me. "Although I wouldn't be opposed to tying you up." I gulp and walk around the room.

"I must say this isn't what I would've expected."

"Oh, no? What would you picture me in?"

"Black satin, black lacquer furniture, chrome fixtures with naked abstract paintings of women on the walls." I shrug.

"So I scream bad '80's music video, do I?" He laughs and I join in.

"Yup."

He walks to me and that shuts me up. Taking my elbow gently as to not spill my wine, he leads me to the huge bay window. I look out and I'm not surprised to see an equally stunning back yard, complete with a beautiful, shimmering blue pool.

"Is this my surprise?" I ask, joking.

I feel his breath close to my ear, something he seems to enjoy doing often, and he whispers. "Look outside to the right."

I do as he says and my eyes widen as I see a couple in the yard next door, naked and about to get in a hot tub.

"Oh my god." My hand raises to my mouth and my fingers dance on my bottom lip. I'm suddenly full of nervous energy. "How did you know…" I break away, still looking at the couple as I watch them embrace in a heated kiss.

"Every two weeks, her mother takes the kids overnight. They seem to have a thing for hot tub sex." I feel his mouth touch my ear slightly, and I shiver.

"You've watched them before." I whisper.

"Of course."

"I assume they don't know?"

I feel him shrug. "If they do, they don't seem to care."

I feel him leave my body, and I stand mesmerized at the sight. "What if they see us now?" As I say it, the lights turn off and the glow from the pool casts wavy blue shadows across the walls.

Manchu reenters my vision, two large pillows in hand. He places them on the floor before the window, and tells me to kneel. He takes my glass from me and grabs my hand, helping me ease my body to the floor. The windowsill is wide enough for me to rest my elbows on, and he goes to place my wine on it before rethinking and putting it on the end table next to his. I think that's a sign of the activity to come.

He slinks down close to me on the left, joining me in kneeling, and I feel his hand snake across my lower back. "It's more perverted this way." He chuckles low, and I make a nervous sound in response. "It's like we're doing something wicked." He adds.

"We are." I feel my pussy clench at the thought of being a voyeur, with Manchu at my side again. I immediately remember how hot it was watching the car in the bank parking lot with him and turn to speak.

"I like your surprise."

"You ain't seen nothing yet." He nods his head towards the window, telling me to return my gaze.

The couple pours some champagne and gets in the hot tub, sipping casually and sitting closely together. The man starts to kiss his wife's neck and at the same time, I feel Manchu's mustache brush against my hair, his hand moving it to expose my own neck. My lids grow heavy as he starts to lightly suck, but I don't close them fully.

Manchu mimics what I'm watching, reaching for my breast as the man cups the woman's, and they both start to play and squeeze. I feel his hand remove itself and climb up under my shirt, his fingers sliding in my bra. While he plays with my nipple, I continue watching as the man lowers his head, grabbing her breast in both hands, before licking and sucking her.

Her hand disappears under the bubbling water, and I know what she's going for. I reach behind me feeling for the erection I know he's sporting, and I'm not disappointed. His hard cock is straining behind the denim, and I rub a few times over the outside. He moans in my ear and I start to let my eyes close, but he chastises me and commands that I keep them open.

The man below has his head thrown back and his hand reaches under the water towards her. I can imagine how slick she is, and the mutual masturbation causes their bodies to move together, her tits rubbing against his chest.

I feel Manchu's other hand slide over my waist and head towards my pants button, dipping his fingers under the waistband before popping the closure and easing the zipper down slowly.

He takes his hand away and grabs mine, pushing both of our hands in my panties. I moan as I feel how wet I am, and he guides my fingers to start rubbing against my clit. "I want you to make yourself come." He says as he pulls his hand away.

He presses his erection against me, trapping my hand with his cock, and pumps a few times into my backside. "Don't you fucking look away from them." He growls when I feel my head bowing down and I snap back up.

My fingers are pressing into me, rubbing and circling my clit while my breathing escalates. The man removes the woman's hand from his body but continues to play with her under the foamy water.

"Vuoi venire, Bella?" He grunts in my ear while continuing to push himself into my hand. "Are you going to come, beautiful?" He translates, and starts to push my jeans down my hips, taking my underwear with them. I keep rubbing as I feel him remove one boot and then the other, followed by my socks.

Movement and rustling against my back signals the removal of his shirt, and I feel him press himself against me once again.

"They're going to fuck soon, they don't last long." He chuckles seductively, his chin resting on my shoulder and I feel his head move, looking between the couple and what my hand is doing down below. "I want you to come before they do."

At his words, I start moving my hand faster, dipping one finger into myself at the same time. I hear him suck in a breath behind me, and I start to come, my hips starting to buck but my body wanting to collapse from pleasure. He grabs me around my waist to stop me from sitting, and pulls my arm with his other hand, bringing my slick fingers to his waiting mouth.

He sucks on them, moaning at the taste, before releasing them and telling me to stand. He helps me up as I rise shakily, and starts to pull my pants and underwear down my legs. I brace myself against the window frame while he pulls off one leg, and then the other. Once my bottom half is naked, he stands up and removes the upper half of my clothing. Squeezing and pawing my breasts from behind, he reminds me to watch the couple so I look back in time to see the husband rise up out of the water and sit on the edge of the hot tub.

Manchu's hands suddenly leave my body, and I hear him taking off his pants. His hands return to rest on my shoulders and he instructs me to kneel once again. Gliding to the floor, he tells me to turn around.

Turning my head, I'm face to face with his erection, which reminds me of just how big he is, and my pussy has a phantom ache from the memory. "She's going to blow him now. Will you suck me, Isabella? I want to see your pretty mouth on my cock."

I look at the couple quickly, and indeed, she's still in the water but has him fully in her mouth, bobbing her head vigorously. I must groan when I see the husband's hand move to guide her head, because Manchu quickly puts his on mine and prompts me to turn around once again.

I look up, and his whole face is awash in desire, his eyes boring down on me. He takes his other hand and holds his cock, stroking twice before placing it in front of my mouth. "Open."

I stretch my lips over the head, trying not to brush my teeth against him, and realize this is a ridiculous task. I proceed anyway, and try to loosen my jaw a little, not wanting to scrape him too hard. I manage to move on him a few times, his hand lightly guiding and pushing until he takes pity on me and gently moves my mouth off of him.

"Ow." I move my jaw back and forth a little, which makes him laugh. The fact that we can go from deep seduction to humor warms me, as I've never felt such a connection with someone like this during sex.

"You'll have to practice." He says, smiling, as he rejoins me in kneeling on the soft, maroon pillows. His hand reaches up to my jaw, and he moves it back and forth once before leaning in to kiss me. He does so slowly, our tongues meeting, but before I get too into it he breaks away and glances over my shoulder. "Showtime."

I scurry around in time to see the wife pop out of the water and turn, sitting down on the man's lap, reverse cowgirl. My stomach twists and my lower body clenches, as I see her reach between her legs to put his cock where she wants it.

She starts moving on top of him while he reaches around to play with a tit, and out of the corner of my eye I see Manchu's hand hold a condom in front of my mouth. "Rip." I quickly take the corner and put my teeth on it, biting down and pulling the foil open. I see him toss the wrapper on the floor, before I feel the movement behind me of him putting it on.

"Lean forward, baby." I do as he says when I feel his hand on my back, and brace myself on the window ledge. The man and wife are going full throttle, he's leaning back on one hand while the other is in her hair as she bops and twists on top of him, bracing her hands on his knees.

I feel Manchu press his cock near my opening, and steady myself for the gigantic intrusion I know is coming. I feel his fingers twirl around my opening briefly, before I feel him start to push the tip in. I shudder, and feel his hand soothing my tense muscles, running up and down my back.

He pushes in further, slowly, until I feel his hips meet mine and we both exhale. Without warning, he starts to fuck me, his hands moving to my hips and grabbing them firmly. He's swiftly pulling me on and off of him, at the same time I feel him slamming into me.

I press my hands against the sill and hold my arms rigid, lest I get thrust forward into the window. He continues to pound into me, the sound of our flesh meeting and slapping loud in the room and accompanying the animal sounds that escape both our mouths.

"Watch them!" He grunts and I feel his hand on the back of my head, pulling my hair a bit forcefully so that I'll jerk my head up and watch, the woman now on her butt on the largest corner of the hot tub while the man plows into her. I feel Manchu's hand leave my hair and slide down to start rubbing my clit, his fingers frantically working me up to my second orgasm.

As I come around him, I hear him grunting and saying something or other about it feeling good, while continuing to pump his hips into mine powerfully. My arms ache, but he feels too incredible inside me to even think about moving them. He must see them shaking because he takes his arm and wraps it around my stomach just under my breasts and pulls me upright, without missing a beat.

My arms are spaghetti at my sides, but I manage to move one back to feel his thigh, his motions making the muscles flex and undulate under his skin.

We move like this for a few moments, and it gives me the opportunity to look down at the couple again. "I think they're almost done." I grit through my teeth, as my sensitive pussy feels like it's going to clench again.

"Fuck, I'd rather watch you." I feel him lean his body back while still holding mine up, and I know he's watching his cock slip in and out, and envy the hot show he's getting.

The husband's ass tightens as I watch him duck his head and still his movement deep within her. I imagine her feeling his come exploding inside of her, and briefly wish I were feeling Manchu's.

I want to call out to Manchu, to tell him I'm coming, but I'm stuck on what to call him so I just come without warning, his cursing letting me know he feels it. With three long drives into me, he comes and presses his sweaty body against me once more.

His body starts to lower us down, still joined, so that my butt is resting on his thighs, half sitting half kneeling, while we both try to control our breathing.

"Fuck. Christ, that was good." He says into my disheveled hair, panting and swallowing. All I can do is say "mmm" in response. I think he's killed me.

When it's time to move, I get up on my shaky knees, feeling him slip out of me. Two hands grip my ribcage and Manchu stands, pulling me to my feet gently. He places a kiss on my shoulder blade and moves me to the bed, pulling back the covers. "I'll be right back."

He leaves to go to the bathroom I assume, and I look at the white bedding. I don't think so. I stand, waiting my turn in the bathroom and I start to feel awkward.

Am I supposed to leave now? I should've maybe conferred with Google on protocol for a relationship such as this. Before I can decide anything, he comes out and looks from the bed to me questioningly. "I need the bathroom."

He gestures behind him and I walk briskly over and shut the door. The bathroom is huge, hotel like, with double sinks, granite counters, a sunken tub and huge walk in shower with heavy-duty equipment in it. I think I count six showerheads.

Returning to the bedroom when done, I see he's lounging on the bed, proud and naked as all get out, and I start to gather my clothes.

"We're not done yet." I hear him say, and I stand slowly to find him grinning devilishly.

"Uh, I need a little time to recover from…" I gesture loosely towards his cock, still shockingly big even when not erect.

"It's the question and answer part of the evening."

"Yikes." I smile, and slip my panties on.

"Leave the rest off." He demands, and I walk to the bed to climb up, settling myself on my side lying crossways by his feet. He hands me my wine and I drink, careful not to spill any of the red liquid on the pristine comforter.

"Okay, so do you have a hat full of questions I pick from, or what?" I joke.

"So funny." He rolls his eyes at me, mocking.

I shrug, and wait.

"This feels forced."

I nod my head. "It does."

"Let's go swimming."

"I don't have a suit." I smile, cause I know he's not going to care.

"Ew, you're gonna swim in my pool naked?" I hit his foot at this comment and he laughs while he gets up and holds a hand out, wiggling his eyebrows. "Let's go skinny dipping."

Walking through his house naked is fun; I get to watch his ass move in front of me. I swear I can see his dick swinging on either side of his hips. "Won't your neighbors be able to see us now?"

"Do you care?"

"Well, we're done so it's not like they'll get the show we did." He stops short on the stairs and turns to face me.

"Who said anything about being done?" His chest puffs out as he looks at me incredulously.

"Oh."

"Tons means more than three, Half Pint."

* * *

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**From the planetblue Archive of Awesome Fic List:**

**Let's Get Physical by Lalina**

The Goal: Lose 70lbs. The Prize: One steamy night with her personal trainer. When overweight Bella is left by her husband, she is determined to lose weight with the help of Edward Masen. What starts off as payback ends up as so much more.

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	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

Crickets are chirping, their night music subtle in the otherwise quiet surroundings. It's dark back here, the only light coming from the lamps in the pool. I watch the reflection of the water as it dances on my naked skin.

The air is pleasant but cool, and as Manchu goes to the little cabana that resembles his house, I dip a toe in the water, happily surprised to find it heated.

He returns with two towels that he puts on a chair, and leaves me to go back into the brightly lit house.

Walking down the steps after removing my panties, the water feels good against my recently used body, and I stretch my neck back and forth as I glide in up to my waist. I circle my hands around as I skim the surface, the movement causing ripples that leave me, only to return after hitting the surrounding walls.

I hear the back door open but don't turn around, instead listening to the sound of a bottle and two glasses being left on the glass table. The water around me laps at my body, and I turn to see Manchu ducking under the water and swimming to the other side. Popping up, he wipes the hair from his forehead and smiles lazily at me.

I smile back and continue my pacing of the pool. He begins to mimic me and we pass each other going in opposite directions until I drop down to cover my shoulders and dip my head back, wetting my hair.

He again, does what I do and we look at each other from across the water.

"Am I allowed to veto a question?" I say quietly to him, not wanting to sully the silence.

"Yes, one veto. Also, I expect full answers. Simple 'yes' or 'no' not allowed. I also get to ask for clarification, or a follow up question, if I'm not satisfied."

"Wow, demanding."

"Yes, I am."

"Greedy too." I furrow my brow at him.

"Like you didn't know that." He grins.

We circle each other a little more, lazily floating.

"Why the subject matter, Professor?"

I think for a minute, there's no real easy answer to that. I sigh before I begin. "I'm interested in behavior that's outside of the norm."

"EHHH." He makes an obnoxious buzzer sound. "That isn't a why."

"So long version, huh?" He nods. I take a deep breath, and dive in. "I guess you could say it's my mother's fault. My dad died when I was young, and after that, she became very religious. The house became a fanatic's house; everything was a sin." I shake my head at my own memory. "Imagine being a girl, taught that every normal hormonal feeling and emotion you had, was the work of the devil. Every activity too. Even something as innocent like going to a party." I glance at Manchu; his rapt attention encourages me to continue.

"I was told I was impure, and I had never even done anything. I guess for lack of a better excuse, what was denied to me became more interesting by default. Human sexuality being a big one, naturally." I feel my face heat at this admission, ridiculous after what we've shared, but there nonetheless.

I watch as he nods his head at me, understanding. His arms swirl out like mine do, pushing the water and manipulating it into waves. "Once I left that house to go to college, I took some sociology courses and my love of deviant behavior was born. I was lucky, I guess. Instead of acting on my curiosity, I studied it." I shrug, having summed it up adequately.

"Why do you work at the bar?"

I raise my hands and splash them in the water, watching the waves I've created. "Well, when I moved here to be closer to Emmett, it was summer. I had the free time and he needed the help. I found that I loved the atmosphere, and the power it gave me to be something I hadn't been up until then, a confident, assertive woman." I pause, wondering how much further I should go. He seems hung on my every word, so I continue. "I revel in the authority, in the rush it gives me. I get to be a strong, sexual woman when otherwise, I've had trouble in that area." I feel my face heat at my admission.

"Explain this trouble."

I knew I should've stopped my explanation sooner. "Veto."

"Not acceptable." He barks out at me.

"You said I could veto!" My hands splash water at him in protest.

He ducks out of the way. "I said I wanted comprehensive answers. That's a follow up question, part b of question two, if you will."

I stare at him, and he doesn't back down. "Fine. The trouble would be, being unable to find the sexual aspects of a relationship satisfying." I half explain, sounding clinical.

His eyebrows quirk at my statement. "What did you find wrong with the ones you've had?"

I pause, thinking, and revel in the idea that although a bit awkward, opening up to him isn't as hard as I thought it would be. Besides, he won't be around for long so I'm not so worried about him judging me. If he does, I can walk away. "Um, I suppose, I chose men that weren't very gifted at delivering. Also, I couldn't seem to find my voice in the bedroom. To say to someone what I needed to really get off made me feel like that impure teenage girl."

"So why can you be that way with me?"

"If you've noticed, I haven't said much during sex with you at all." I see him narrow his eyes in thought, until they widen.

"You may like the sexual control at the bar, but you love handing it over to me outside of it." He says.

"I would clarify it more as you're able to give me what I need, somehow by just knowing." I take in a nervous breath. "Am I done yet? That was more than three."

"Three? By my count I earned seven." He smiles wickedly at me, while moving like a snake closer to me. His head dips down so that just his eyes are above the surface, like a predator stalking it's prey.

I do the math, three in the car, one in Em's office, three tonight. He's almost correct. "I gave myself one, that doesn't count."

Instead of arguing, he keeps his mouth under the water and I feel his hands circle my waist, pulling me to him. Our naked bodies float together, and instinctively, my legs rise up to wrap around his waist. He's holding me against him and I bring my arms up to rest lazily on his tattooed shoulders, not quite in an embrace. His head dips back up, keeping those shoulders at the surface and I trace the art with my fingers. The dwindling smoke from a fire surrounding a sun swirls along his skin, wrapping itself like a ribbon around a series of stars in constellation form. My nails move and scrape gently across a black and gray heart, the bottom of which melts and drips into a curling ocean wave.

"I've asked four. You can take a turn if you want."

"Well you started out with a work one, so I will too. Why Pediatric Oncology?"

I see his eyes darken, and turn to sadness. "Rose and I had a little sister, Margaret. She developed leukemia at six, and I watched her suffer with it for three years before she died."

"I'm sorry." I tighten my arms around his neck; almost hugging but unsure if he'd want that.

"Me too. She'd have been twenty seven."

"She'd be my age. How old were you when…"

"I was nineteen when she died. Rose was sixteen."

"Ah, an older man." I tease gently about our ten-year age difference.

He gives just a hint of a smile, and continues to carry us around in the pool. The heated water giving me goose bumps where the outside air hits my skin. Without thinking too much about it, I lean in and press my lips to his. He returns the kiss softly, no urgency from either of us while we float.

* * *

"I'm starting to prune." I look at my wrinkled hands that have finally removed themselves from his neck. We had been kissing for what felt like forever, me not taking the opportunity to ask my other question and thankful he didn't continue with his.

"Let's get you dried off." He puts me down and we walk to the steps. He doesn't let go of the grip he has on my hand, and we ascend together into the air that's turned brisk while we were swimming.

He quickly grabs a towel and wraps it around my body, before reaching for his own. We hurry towards the house before he runs back to grab the wine and glasses.

"Well, I guess I'll go change and get out of your hair." I start to move towards the steps, but his voice stops me.

"You can stay the night, if you'd like." I look to him and he's looking down at the bottle, studying it like he's never seen it before.

"I don't know, I mean…" I trail off, unsure how to say 'thanks for the fuck, but we both know what this is.'

He looks up sharply at me, all of the softness in his features from the pool leaving, being replaced by that devilish boy again. "It's late, I saw you brought your bike. You shouldn't be riding this late alone."

"I ride later than this all the time from Emmett's."

"I'm not done with you, I thought I told you that." He smirks.

"I'm a horse, remember?" I say pointing at myself. "I need to be broken in slowly."

We look at each other for a moment; I'm considering and he's waiting for me to decide to stay. "I'm going to go."

"Of course. Take all the time you need to get dressed." He moves to the sink and I watch as he places the glasses in before I turn and hurry up the stairs, trying not to drip.

Once dressed and standing in the entranceway, a still towel-wrapped Manchu brings my jacket to me and we stand awkwardly, saying goodbye.

He leans in for a kiss at the same time I hold out my hand to shake.

He looks at my hand and raises an eyebrow. "Really?"

"I'm new at this. Sue me." I smile, slightly nervous as he leans in and chastely kisses me on the lips.

"Have a safe trip home, Isabella."

* * *

The next week flies by in record time; Sunday I devote to visiting Timmy in the hospital. Things are going well and he's allowed one non-family member at a time. Kate and I take turns relieving Alice or Jasper, whoever is on hospital duty so they can go home to shower, eat, and see Tommy.

I'm so happy to see him returning back to normal, hospital gown and all. He looks so small in the bed, wires and monitors surrounding him, but his color is returning, and my favorite Timbo smile is gracing his face.

We play tic-tac-toe and a very mild game of thumb wrestle, but all too soon, it's time for me to go. I leave him with a kiss on the head and a promise to come back later in the week.

* * *

Tuesday afternoon, I'm sitting with Tori in the Sociology department office while we eat salads, and she bitches about how many weddings she has to attend in the next few months.

"I swear it's like all of my friends ganged up and decided to get engaged at the same time. Besides how much all of this is going to cost me in presents, bachelorette parties and bridesmaid dresses, I have no prospect of a date to any of these events."

"I'll have a wedding soon too, I suppose." Ang and I are still waiting for Ben to present the ring she found, and she's starting to wonder what his problem is. I briefly flash to an image of Manchu and I attending the wedding together. Dangerous thinking.

I quickly get back on track with Tori, and suggest she have one of the bachelorette parties they're planning at the bar. She seems interested and says she'll run it by the other girls. "Maybe I'll find a nice biker cowboy to take me to some weddings." She wiggles her eyebrows at me and grins.

"What about James?" I ask, while munching on a carrot.

"Who?"

"James, Sociology Film Professor James."

"Oh, your guy? No, I wouldn't do that to you." She says, shaking her red mane.

"I'm not dating James."

"He's cute." She points out.

"He is, that's why you should date him."

She wrinkles her nose at me. "I don't know, I don't usually go for the bookish types."

"Well you should try something new, you never know." Like having sex with arrogant people in the medical field, I grin internally.

I make a mental note to arrange for James to come down to the bar on the night Tori brings her friends, and we move onto other topics.

* * *

Making my way to the back of the coffee shop on Thursday morning, I'm surprised to see someone sitting with Mimi.

I'm even more surprised when it's no other than Manchu, dressed in doctor mode. My heart skips a little as I get closer, taking in the well-used leather biker jacket over his scrubs and the sneakers adorning his feet. He just looks so cute.

Sitting down at my table, with a confused look on my face, they both look over at me.

"Is it Friday? Have I disturbingly lost days somewhere?" I tap my finger to my chin. "No, can't be. No suit." I smile and Manchu stretches his frame so that his arm is resting on the chair across from me as he leans between the tables.

"I thought you'd like to see me on an off day." He replies, smirk in full force.

"Well, we're all wrong once in a while." I answer back, smiling sweetly. "Seriously, why are you here?"

"I am serious. I thought you'd like to see me." He looks to his companion. "What doesn't she understand, Mimi?" Looking back to me, he continues. "Actually, I was here chatting up the latest Stephen King with my new favorite coffee partner."

"Oh, well don't let me bother you guys then." I pull my laptop out and turn it on, waiting for the little apple symbol to appear.

"I can talk to you both."

"No, it's ok. Really." I start hunting for a file to occupy myself with.

"Okay, maybe I just wanted to see you." That stops me and I look up to see Manchu and Mimi both smiling at me. "You look beautiful today, Half Pint."

Even though I'm secretly thrilled with his comment, I narrow my eyes. "What's the catch? Do you need help moving or a ride to the airport or something? You're being too nice."

He sips his coffee and ignores my comments before grabbing a napkin and wiping coffee from his mustache.

"Your mustache is getting long." I observe, admiring it.

"Needs a trim." He absentmindedly runs his hand over his face, rubbing at his facial hair.

While Manchu goes off somewhere in his head, Mimi takes the lull in banter to ask me how Timmy is doing. We talk awhile about his progress and how well his parents are faring, when I mention that I'm visiting him again later that day.

"What time are you going to be there?" Manchu breaks in; I hadn't even realized he'd been listening.

"Around three or so. Why?"

"Stop by and say hello."

I widen my eyes. "You want me to come to your office to say hi?" This isn't something a sex relationship involves, does it?

"Sure, why not? I don't bite." His smile grows playful and he leers at me.

"If you did, maybe she'd like you better."

Manchu's eyes match mine in size when we both look over at Mimi who is smiling devilishly. "What? Old women can't have quips?" She raises an eyebrow and I start to laugh.

"Oh Mimi, if I weren't already sleeping with Half Pint here, I'd definitely be barking up your tree."

I put my head in my hand at his comment, although I shouldn't really be surprised at this point. Besides, Mimi's heard worse from him about the fact that we're sleeping together.

"Sorry kiddo, I like my men mature."

I bark out a laugh while Manchu says "Ouch!" and gets up to leave.

He turns to me, "Come by when you're done." His eyes are soft; his smile kind, so I nod my head and tell him I'll see him later.

"Good one, Mimi." I say to her once Manchu has walked from the table. We bump fists and I look back and smile, watching as he strolls away.

* * *

I'm nervously standing outside of Manchu's office door, having just left a very happy Timmy who was able to have Tommy visit. The two boys sat close together on his bed and ran matchbox cars down their legs. It was a beautiful thing.

I've been here before, I'm not nervous about that; the past two weeks with all of the Timmy stuff I've had my fair share of hospital visits at the children's wing. I'm more nervous that this is a social call, and not a booty call. Unless he has some doctor-patient fantasy he wants to try. My mind starts to conjure inappropriate images so I roll my eyes at myself and enter the office.

There's no one in the waiting room and the TV in the corner is off, so I assume he's done with office visits for the day. I walk up to the glass partition ready to tell the receptionist that's looking at me why I'm here when Rose appears and stops short when she sees me.

"Izzy? Hi!" Her eyes are wide and questioning, and I tell her that her brother told me to stop by after visiting Timmy. She asks how he's doing and we chat for a second before she waves me over to the inner door and we stand inside by some purple filing cabinets.

"He didn't tell me you were coming." She looks confused, and I start to wonder if she's not okay with me being here.

"Oh, um I'm sorry, is it a bad time?"

She must see the worry on my face because she smiles and adds, "No! Not at all, I'm just surprised. Edward has never had anyone stop by before. He's certainly never been close enough to a woman to ask her to."

Oh. "Really?" My voice squeaks, and Rose picks up on my surprise or relief, whichever you prefer.

Smiling, she explains. "Oncologists are a strange breed. They can be a bit closed off."

The Sociology professor in me is intrigued. "It's a trait found in the occupation? How so?"

A look of resignation comes over Rosalie's face, and she answers. "It's hard for them to open up and get close to people. It's an unfortunate side effect, when a third of your patients die. It can carry over into their personal lives."

She says it so bluntly that it's jarring, but I guess in her line of work, it's something she just accepts. I remain silent, not having a thing to say to that sobering thought.

"Conversely, saving lives gives them the arrogant trait." She winks, instantly removing the heavy atmosphere.

"That sounds more like the guy I've come to know, definitely arrogant."

"I heard that." At his voice, my nerve endings stand at attention and I turn to see Manchu hotter than hell in his scrubs complete with a tight blue scrub cap, face mask hanging loosely from his neck, and a fantastic smile as he looks at me. "Hello, Half Pint."

"Hi." I turn back to Rose. "It was good to see you again, Rose." I smile at her and she returns it, before reminding Manchu to fill out his charts before he goes.

"How's Timmy?" He asks while turning back to walk the way he came from, so I follow while giving him the latest update.

We make a little small talk as he leads me to a door inside the back of the offices. "I have to do something, would you like to join me?"

"What is it?" I ask, wiggling my eyebrows.

"Unfortunately not that, although," he pauses in the hallway we entered and leans in close. "I do need some extra credit, Professor."

My insides twist with want. "Oh you have the unoriginal teacher fantasy, huh?" I finger the button at my throat. "Shouldn't I have my hair up and glasses on for that one?"

"And nothing else." He growls into my ear and I'm officially wet. Maybe I can turn this into a booty call after all. "I actually have a patient to check on." He pulls back and it snaps me to attention.

"Oh, I can go…"

He touches my arm, the warmth seeping through the silk, and smiles.

"Would you like to meet my kids?"

* * *

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**From the planetblue Archive of Awesome Fic List:**

**Departures by TheFicChick**

"Every day for the rest of my life, I will wonder how kissing a virtual stranger goodbye could have felt like a hello."

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	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

"_Would you like to meet my kids?"_

* * *

I stare at him, dumbfounded. "Should I? Is it safe for them?"

He nods, and we continue down the hall. "Yes, it's fine. They have regular visitors and we host entertainers for them like clowns, singers, that kind of stuff. The children at high risk of infection are in another section of the wing. You will have to scrub up pretty good though."

He leads me to a set of swinging doors with the words "Pediatric Oncology" overhead, and through the windows I can see brightly painted walls with stencils and murals adorning them.

"Are you sure?" He asks me and I nod. "They look sick, Iz. No hair, sunken eyes, the whole bit. I won't hold it against you." It's almost like he's testing me, in some strange way, challenging me to see if I can deal with what he has to live with.

"I'm very sure. I'd love to meet them." He smiles and nods, and takes me inside the doors to a washing station, where he shows me how to wash hands properly while complaining that all people do is run antibacterial soap over their hands briefly and call it thorough. I laugh at his bitching, which he joins in, before instructing me to use the sanitizer as well.

I'm nervous as we walk back down the hall and into a large room. There are some kid size tables and chairs strewn about with puzzles and games occupying their surfaces. A few small beds occupy the far wall, facing a TV, but only one is taken. It looks like the little boy fell asleep while watching SpongeBob; his mother I presume, reading a book next to him. She smiles at Manchu as we enter.

A nurse is sitting with the other two kids in the room at one of the game tables, playing what appears to be a rousing game of Chutes and Ladders.

Manchu was right. These kids look sick, their hairless bodies and shadowed eyes, their small frames and paper thin skin leaving no doubt. You'd never be able to tell by their bright smiles when they see him though.

"Dr. Cullen!" The boy says loudly, "Nurse Lisa is losing!"

"That's because Michael here is a cheater." The nurse retorts playfully, throwing her hands up in the air like she's frustrated.

"Am not!" He protests.

"Are too!" The little girl in the pink hat joins in the taunting before turning to Manchu and giving him a huge smile.

She reaches her hands up and makes a 'gimme' motion to Manchu, and he crouches down immediately, almost like it's routine for them. He's now lower than she is in her chair.

He leans forward and her hands move to his face, grasping both sides of his mustache and pulling lightly, making his head move back and forth.

"I'm going to marry a boy with a mustache when I grow up." She says to Manchu, and I feel the tears start to well in my eyes.

Turning my back slightly so they don't see, I hear him reply to her that she'll make some boy very happy one day, and jokes that it had better not be for a very long time.

I feel his hand on my shoulder. I hadn't even realized he'd gotten up, and he asks me if I'm ok so they can't hear.

I nod my head and look at him, and his eyes are sad. "You can't do that here." He squeezes my shoulder and whispers it pleadingly, like it's hard enough for everyone involved without caving into our emotions. I look at the sleeping boy's mother, and she's also looking at me with sympathy in her eyes.

I nod and take a deep breath, and he turns back around, his sadness for me turning to a cheery disposition for them in a heartbeat.

"Hey guys, this is my friend Izzy. Izzy, this is Michael, he's a huge Star Wars fan." Manchu points at the boy playing the board game before pointing at the little girl. "And this is Kayla, who loves anything pink. Nurse Lisa here is the warden." She smiles at me in greeting, as Manchu continues the introductions. "That over there is Bobby, when he's not sleeping he draws up a storm." He smiles at Bobby's mom and introduces her to me as Mrs. Capelli.

I say hello to everyone, and when Michael and Kayla ask me to play Chutes and Ladders. I grab a little chair and proceed to sit.

"It's been a long time for me. You'll have to remind me how to play." I say to them, and they start talking over each other, launching into the instructions like I'm an idiot. I laugh, and look up at Manchu who is staring at me, an expression on his face I can't quite read.

* * *

"It's a good thing we're not dating." I say to Manchu as we walk out of the building, after he grabbed his jacket and ignored his charts.

"Oh? Why is that?" His hand lays gently on the small of my back as he ushers me through the door, sending a tingle down my spine.

"It appears you're spoken for." I grin up at him and he laughs.

"Yes, well, she only likes me for my mustache." We walk across the parking lot, him following me towards my car.

"Is that why you haven't trimmed it?" I joke.

"Actually, yes."

I stop at my car and turn to face him, the expression on his face one of bashfulness, a quality I'd yet to see in him.

"It's sweet."

The moment is broken when he puffs his chest out and stretches. "Yeah sweet, that's me. Sweet as chocolate cake." He grins, looking at me.

"Play it off all you want, Manchu, but I've discovered your secret identity."

He steps up to me and puts his hands on my waist. "Hmm, maybe I'll let you help me out of my superhero getup."

"Who implied you were the hero? I see you more as the bad guy."

"Oh I can be very, very bad." He dips to nuzzle my neck and I'm reminded we're at his place of business, and this feels way too real.

I stiffen and move my face to the side. "Um, maybe we shouldn't do that right now."

I feel him pause before he removes his hands and steps back. "Sorry, you're right. So I guess I'll see you tomorrow morning." His playful nature is gone, having turned almost clinical in an instant.

"Yeah, sure. Suit tomorrow?" Even though I caused it, I hide my disappointment at his coldness with a joke and fumble for my keys.

"Yes, it's Friday."

"What's that all about, anyway?" I ask, hitting the unlock button.

He sighs. "Fridays are the days I meet new patients."

I'm confused. "Oh. You led me to believe that Friday's were somehow your worst day." A past comment about how seeing me Friday mornings were the only way to start an otherwise crappy day, and the Friday he came in to the bar looking like he'd lost his puppy come to mind.

He looks at me pointedly, like he's willing me to understand. He gives up, and answers. "What do new patients mean for me, Professor?"

It hits me suddenly. "New patients for you mean…"

"Yes. Diagnosis and prognosis. Not an easy day when you might have to tell someone their child has a slim chance, regardless of what I'll try to do."

I feel guilty. "If I'd known I wouldn't have given you such a hard time every Friday-"

"Don't." He interrupts sharply. "Don't say that." His eyes lose their fire, and in their place I see a hint of desperation. "I need my ballsy, shit-kicking Izzy."

I nod, and move to get in my car. He closes the door for me with a grin, and I watch as he walks to where his BMW is parked.

Staring far too long, I can't deny I liked that he said 'my'.

* * *

"I believe I'm still owed three questions." Manchu sets his cup on the table and slides his chair out, sitting across from me. He says good morning to Mimi, who seems engrossed in her book, and she responds with a quick hello before continuing to read.

I look at his suit, a navy blue pinstripe, and find it hard to believe I didn't immediately find him attractive when I first met him dressed like this. "We never confirmed if you were owed six or seven, initially. I claim six."

He narrows his eyes at me, in thought, and finally agrees. "Fine, I'll give you that one, but the next time you, um" he looks quickly at Mimi and I'm surprised he's being discreet and not just blurting out info about my orgasms, "complete in my vicinity, or because of something I've said or done, it's mine."

I like the commanding tone in his voice, so I give in, but with a request of my own. "You do realize the odds of me gaining personal info on you is severely slanted out of my favor, right?" He laughs and nods. "Well then I'm taking that one you just gave up, so I now have two questions of my own for you." I grin, pleased with myself.

"Fine. Go."

"What's with the Italian?" The memory of him whispering foreign words in my ear with a perfect accent while touching me sends a rush through my body.

His grin turns devilish. "Do you like it?"

"I think you know my response has been favorable." I think I could come from his voice alone.

"My mother's side of the family is from Italy, she was born there. We would visit every summer, and my grandparents spoke little to no English. When Margaret got sick, we stopped going, naturally. The summer after she died, I found myself staying for the entire summer by myself. I spent time with my extended family, speaking nothing but Italian. I found it to be a very healing time, being away from everything else I knew." He pauses, drifting away in memory. "I became fluent that summer. I got the more colorful phrases from one of my uncles." He wiggles his eyebrows, and that reminds me of the paper in my briefcase.

"I have a part B, this isn't my second question." I take out the words I'd been carrying around and hold it, explaining. "I wrote this down as well as I could remember after you left, uh, Emmett's office that night." My cheeks flame and I look up quickly to see him grinning at me, a knowing smirk on his face. "I apparently did so incorrectly because it makes no sense when I put it in Google Translate."

I slide the paper to him and he picks it up, reading my terrible phonetic interpretation. "Good try, but what I said was, 'Bella. Mi piace sentirti venire mentre sono dentro di te'."

I look at him pointedly, waiting for the translation. He looks back at me and lowers his voice, a possessive quality overtaking his features. Leaning forward on his elbows, he speaks again.

"Literally that means: Beautiful. I love to feel you coming while I'm inside you."

I gulp loudly, and take the piece of paper back from the center of the table where he left it. "Ah, okay then."

Really, there's nothing much to say to that.

* * *

I'm jostled by Tori when she comes careening into my lecture hall and grabs my arm.

"Izzy! Guess what. I have a date for the weddings!"

"That's great! Who's the lucky guy?"

"Well here's the thing, I hope you're not upset. I probably should've asked you first. Oh God, I hope you're not angry!" She looks at me with a worried expression on her face.

"Why would I be upset?" My first thought is that she saw Manchu and me at the coffee shop or something and decided to hit on him, but I quickly dismiss that. My second is that she's talking about Emmett, but he told me he'd taken Rose out and was really interested in seeing her again.

"It's James." She looks at me with trepidation, waiting for my response.

My eyebrows shoot up. "James? Really? I think that's great! How…?"

Relief washes over her pretty features. "Well, you know you've been spending a lot of time in the hospital lately, so we've been eating lunch and spending time together in your absence."

"I think it's perfect. Really. He's a nice guy."

"Yes, he's gotten less shy, he's actually very funny." Her eyes shine as she talks about James; it's amusing to see.

"Well congrats, you'll have a great time together. I'm sure of it." With a quick hug, she bounces out of my room just as my students are starting to trickle in. I organize my notes and get my materials ready as they take their seats and remove their laptops and notebooks from their bags.

I occupy one of the smaller lecture halls in the Sociology department; I only have about thirty-five students in this class, which is perfect for me. I find the smaller class size allows for a more intimate teaching environment. The students are able to speak and think freely, which can really make for some interesting discussions.

There is a podium in my room, but it makes me feel stuffy so I prefer to lean against my desk which graces the front of the room. I take my spot and start my lecture; I'm on the third of four planned lectures on sexual deviance, which will be followed by criminal behavior, religious minorities focusing on the cult mentality, and wrapping up with the public stigma of addiction.

"Let's talk fantasies, people. What is considered a normal and healthy sexual fantasy as opposed to the darker, less acceptable?" As I look around the class waiting for suggestions, I nearly drop the iPad I'm holding.

There in the back row behind the students, trying to blend in, is Manchu. He's out of his suit and wearing a simple sweatshirt and jeans, attire that easily makes him pass for a student. I'm not sure if he was trying to remain undetected, but when he sees my surprised expression, he slowly grins at me and crosses his arms over his chest settling into his chair.

I'm momentarily thrown and have to ask Lisa to repeat what she just said, but my love for my course overrides any discomfort I feel at Manchu watching me teach, and I launch into her example, the rape fantasy. I ask her why over half of college females surveyed in a 1998 study by Donald Strassberg admit to having this fantasy.

Lisa clears her throat and begins speaking. "The fantasy avoids societally induced guilt. The woman does not have to admit responsibility for her sexual desires and behavior."

I agree with her basic assessment and continue, adding my own facts. "A 1978 study by Moreault and Follingstad is consistent with your hypothesis. They found that women with high levels of sex guilt were more likely to report fantasies around the central theme of being overpowered, dominated, and possessing a feeling of helplessness."

One of my students David, always quick with the return argument, looks at his laptop as he reports that conversely, the Pelletier and Herold study found a different correlation and measure of guilt, stating that females with forced fantasies have a more positive attitude towards sexuality.

We discuss the different findings and statistics, and as always, the subject matter becomes more conversational than clinical, and the students debate the feelings of guilt or pleasure of men participating in a woman's rape fantasy. I almost expect Manchu to speak up, but thankfully, he's taking my job seriously.

"Let's get deeper. What would a woman get out of participating in a fantasy such as this? I think it's fair to say, none of us would want to be raped. What makes the fantasy so appealing?" I sit back on the desk and listen to my students.

"It's taboo. It's not something you should want, therefore, it makes it more exciting." Lindsay in the front row turns to the rest of the class, directing her next statement at them. "For some, the pleasure would be in the act of being restrained. Of having someone disable your movement and ultimately, be able to do anything they want to you, without you having to feel like a victim, because you're consenting."

"So is it okay then, in the privacy of your own bedroom to want to be 'raped'?" David asks, questioningly.

Sue backs up Lindsay, turning to David. "Anything is ok in the privacy of your own bedroom. I agree with what Lindsay said, but I'd add that by participating in such a fantasy, you're basically giving up control. That's what you get out of it."

I think of Manchu's statement in the pool, about me having control in the bar but readily giving it up to him during sex. My insides twist, and I wish internally that he'd chosen to attend my gambling addiction lecture.

I move on. "Okay, let's go in a different direction. If your girlfriend told you she wanted you to be rough and take her forcefully, what would you think of her? Would you just go with it and enjoy it, or would you wonder what kind of sicko she was?" I use air quotes around sicko, and get a few chuckles.

"I'd probably wonder what's going on in her head, sure." Patrick speaks up from the back row, in front of Manchu, so I have to look in that direction.

I wonder what he thinks of all of this. Maybe I'll use it as one of my allotted questions later. "Okay then guys, are there any repercussions to him going along with her fantasy?"

"Not if they both want it, they both get something out of it." Lindsay states.

"The guy gets to force himself on a woman, what does that say about him? What if he ends up liking it too much?" David points at Lindsay, continuing. "Would you want to date a guy that's okay with taking you like that regardless if it's a fantasy or not?"

I have no issue getting personal with my classes if the discussion warrants it, but I try not to divulge my own interest in a forced sexual encounter. I try to give my opinion lightly; highly aware of Manchu's hanging on my every word. "Maybe it says that he wants to fulfill her desires, that he wants to please her and in the safety of their own home, why should he feel guilty if it's what she wants?"

I purposely don't look at Manchu for the rest of the lecture, and when it's time the students file out with an assignment due next week. I make a show of gathering my tools and organizing my briefcase, when I see someone standing in front of my desk.

"I'm very impressed, Professor."

I look up, not at all surprised to see Manchu, and take the compliment. "Thank you. I'm glad you found it interesting."

"Interesting doesn't describe it." He lowers his voice, putting on the one he knows affects me. "Your students, I hope, don't know you as intimately as I do. Your excitement for the subject matter radiated off of you in waves."

I refuse to confirm or deny, and don't allow myself a mental image of Manchu and I engaging in such a fantasy. "Why are you here?"

"I wanted to see if you were any good at your job." He smiles.

"Seriously?" I roll my eyes at him and start to walk out the door.

He continues like I didn't speak, following behind me. "And I won't get a chance to see you later."

"Oh. Okay." I want to ask why, but I don't want him to know that I'm disappointed, especially after that lecture. I'll have to go home and break out a DVD.

"One Saturday a month I have office hours." He offers. We reach my office so I stop and turn around.

"Well, have a good day then." It's become suddenly awkward; I'm not sure what I'm supposed to say here. Do I ask to see him again tomorrow? Do I wait for him to instigate an evening?

I pull my keys out, and I'm kind of waiting for him to say something about when he'll see me again, but he just says good-bye and I watch as he walks down the hallway, exiting the building. I feel like I'm always watching him leave.

I'm not encouraging him to stay though, either, I realize. I'm about to chase after him to ask when we'll get together, but I chicken out, and enter my office to grade papers.

* * *

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**From the planetblue Archive of Awesome Fic List:**

**For the Summer by camoozle**

Every year Bella waits for the 'Pay Checks' to roll into her sleepy river town and every year Edward's hers, just for the summer. AH, AU, OOC, B/E

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_**A/N: **_**Hi folks! I have some personal business to take care of for the next two days, I may be late with review replies. Please have some patience with me, you know how much I love hearing from you and answering you, it just might be a little tricky. I promise to get to all of them by the end of the weekend. **


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

The week goes by with no word from Manchu. He hasn't made an appearance at the coffee shop, or asked to see me again. I try not to focus too much on it, as my intent of the whole thing was to try a solely sexual relationship with no strings attached, so I've been somewhat successful there. Do I want it to continue? Of course, I'm enjoying myself immensely, but if it is ending, I got what I wanted. The rolling in my stomach however, tells me differently, but I choose to ignore it.

The days are filled with visiting Alice's clan, and it's a happy day that week when Timmy comes home. We're all there, and it's emotional to watch the boys together, as Tommy refuses to leave Timmy's side. Something Timmy seems equally fine with.

We get pizza and play board games, Jasper and Alice lighter than I'd seen in weeks.

She's astonished when I fill her in on my discovery that the guy I've been sleeping with is none other than Dr. Cullen. Alice, of course, barely contains herself from planning my wedding. I try to explain the logistics of our 'relationship', but she doesn't want to hear it, insisting that I'm just fooling myself. She doesn't back down when I tell her that a whole week has gone by without a word from him, so he can't be that interested in me either.

Angie calls with happy news of her own. Ben finally proposed. I immediately meet up with her to see the ring, and she fills me in on the details of how he popped the question. We discuss what her plans are for the wedding, as they seem to be moving full steam ahead. Neither wants a drawn out engagement, so they're planning a small affair with close family and friends at the beginning of summer. We pull out my iPad and start looking at venues, trying to be creative because Angie adamantly refuses to have it in a banquet hall.

We toy with the idea of having it at the bar, until we dissolve into a fit of giggles at how ridiculous it would be, the bride and groom riding the bull instead of lighting the candle or whatever it is people do. Calming down, she says the only thing she knows for sure is that she'd like me to be her maid of honor, which I excitedly agree to, and we make jokes about me wearing a leather dress.

The wedding talk makes me think about Tori and James, and I get a bit melancholy at the thought of having to attend Angie's nuptials stag.

* * *

Ben has come in to the bar that Friday, and Angie's excited to be sharing her news while he's there. I'm enjoying watching her flash her ring at the regulars, getting offered congratulations and drinks all night, so I let her bask in the spotlight and gladly pick up the slack.

Rose is sitting at the bar, and according to Seth, she's been there most of the week, watching Emmett do whatever it is he does. I'm happy if he's found someone, truly. I know I made the decision not to date, but I can't help but be a little jealous watching my newly engaged friend and my recently dating brother, even if they are at different points in their relationships.

Rose is exuding happiness, but most importantly, Emmett is too. He checks on her throughout the night, insultingly making sure I'm being attentive to her, and plays music she likes in the jukebox before and after the band plays. It's funny to watch Emmett so into one girl, but I guess it was bound to happen.

He's always been nurturing, taking care of me after dad died, and when our mother started to go crazy. He always looked out for me first, and tried to protect me from things as much as possible. It was a rough time for me when he told me he'd been accepted at Florida State, and he waffled on whether or not to go. I encouraged him, not wanting him to put anything aside for me, but he ultimately chose to stay in Nashville, earning a business degree at the University I now teach at.

I think the best thing about Emmett is his selflessness. He didn't hold it against me when I did what he wouldn't do, and left for college in Alabama two years later.

By my junior year of college, my mother was certifiable and being cared for in a nice home, paid for by my father's benefits and pension, with assistance from Medicare. I stayed in Alabama after graduation for a year or two, interning and trying to pinpoint the area of study I wanted to teach, but visited as often as I could. When she had her stroke, I returned permanently, eventually saying goodbye to the woman that gave me life. Emmett and I reconnected and leaned on each other, helping one another get through the heartache of burying our remaining parent.

I smile when I watch Emmett help Rose off the stool when she leaves to go to the restroom. He deserves this. If he can get his head around the idea of settling down, he'd make a great husband. It may happen sooner than later, and I think about the fact that we always said I'd be the first one to fall.

* * *

The roads are empty as I maneuver my Harley Iron 883 through my neighborhood, enjoying the feeling of my hair flying behind me under my helmet. Spring still has a ways to go, but an early summer is threatening, the air starting to feel muggy.

Pulling up my driveway and under the carport, I curse myself when I realize I forgot to turn the porch light on again. The only illumination is being provided by moonlight and the far away glow from a neighbor's house.

I take my helmet off, placing it on the handlebars, and stretch my tired body. I'm not normally this tired after working on a Friday night, but I think the absence of a man paying attention to me amidst the happy couples tonight has made me weary.

If I'm being honest, Manchu's absence has made me morose all week. It was obvious he wasn't going to show that morning as soon as Mimi asked where he was. I wondered if I had done something to drive him off the last time we saw each other. All I can remember is just telling him to have a good day after he told me he wouldn't be seeing me that night.

Did he take that as a blow off? I thought we were on the same page on this whole thing. Was he miffed I didn't instigate a reason to get together? I guess he owed me nothing, no call or anything regarding his sudden disappearance. Still, a text message would've been nice, since we'd recently exchanged numbers.

I sigh and walk up to the front door, keys in hand as my father always taught me. Just as I'm feeling in the dark for the right key, I get a sense of someone behind me and my body goes on alert. I feel a hand cover my mouth and I drop my keys, reaching both hands up to grab onto the arm of my attacker, intending to eventually make my way to his face, the goal is to gouge his eyes out.

"Izzy, it's me. Calm down."

In my head, I know I'm hearing Manchu's voice but I can't process what's happening. Still clinging to his forearms, he makes soothing sounds in my ear and I feel his other hand softly stroking my side.

I calm minutely, my chest still heaving with leftover fear and adrenaline.

"One quick question. Do you want me to fulfill this fantasy?" He whispers in my ear, and I can't deny the thrill in me, of the fantasy, of it being him, of him finally being here and giving me something he knows I wouldn't ask for. I hesitate slightly before nodding my head, yes.

"If at anytime, this gets to be too much, I want you to say coffee. If you're unable to speak, I want you to snap three times. Got it?"

I nod again.

"Do it now, let me hear you snap." I snap three times, and he approves, but waits a moment before continuing, growling in my ear. I know he's started to play.

"If you scream, I will hurt you. If you fight me, I will hurt you. We're going to bend down together and pick up your keys."

I nod, his hand still over my mouth as we bend to retrieve the keys. His grasp on my arm holds me close to him as we straighten, and I shakily find the right key, opening the door.

The only light inside is from a small lamp on a table across the room, so it's a little hard to see. He pushes me farther into the room and closes the door behind him, the sound a soft 'click' in the dark space.

"I was watching you at the bar tonight, teasing men and making them want you. Don't you know you're mine? You've been very bad tonight." I feel his lips lightly touch my neck, trailing up towards my face. The act is thrilling and terrifying all at the same time, as I think about what if it weren't Manchu behind me.

I let myself fall into the game, and play along. "I'll give you anything you want, I have money, just don't hurt me."

"I don't want money, sweetheart. I want this tight little body of yours." His face moves to my hair and he inhales, pressing his cheek against my head. "Bad girls have bad things happen to them."

A surge of excitement shoots through me as I devise a plan, and I mentally do a checklist of where everything in the room is laying, remembering the boxes I've still got taking up space, and a laundry basket full of clean clothes next to the coffee table.

With all of the strength in me, I channel my father's other self-defense lessons, and twist my body at the same time as I kick backwards, right into Manchu's knee. He's completely surprised and lets go of me immediately, bending over in the dark to hold onto the body part I just assaulted. I hear him chuckle and say 'what the fuck' before standing upright and charging towards me.

"You're going to wish you hadn't done that." He yells out, following me further into the room. I grab for the laundry and throw the basket behind me in his direction, listening to him curse again as he jumps over it, stumbling a little when his foot catches the edge.

I feel exhilarated, and run into the kitchen but he catches up to me and spins me around, his arms winding tightly around my body so that I'm immobile.

"You think that's going to stop me from taking what I want?" He presses his mouth to mine roughly, and it's all I can do to tear myself away from his hot kiss to add to the game.

I'm about to shout when his hand comes up to cover my mouth again, in warning. I feel his other hand move over my body, grabbing my breast and squeezing deliciously hard, pressing me back into the island.

He's really given me no choice. I bite him.

"Ow! Fucking hell!" He releases me and takes a step back, shaking his hand out, the other slipping from my body in response. "Oh, you're going to pay for that!"

He lunges towards me but I slink away around the island, heading towards my stairs. I know I'll be trapped up here, but I have to acquiesce sometime, right? I take the stairs two at a time, but feel a hand on my foot before I can make it halfway up. I kneel and hold onto the railing trying to shake him off, but he overpowers me and climbs up the stairs, until he's settled himself on top of me.

"You all right?" He asks gently in my ear, and I know it's Manchu asking.

"Yes." I answer, before feeling his hand move up to my shirt and start to forcefully take it off my body. He's twisting and pulling the material until it starts to give, the thin tank top no match for his strength. Immediately, his mouth is on my partially bare back, his hands pressing me down onto the staircase, and I moan.

"Oh, I knew you were a bad girl. I knew you'd like it. Let me show you exactly how much you're going to like it." He proceeds to lick and bite down my skin, his mouth hitting the waistband of my jeans and flicking his tongue under.

I wiggle a little and get a hand free, and reach back to grab a fistful of hair. He reels up, grunting and when I turn around, I see his face partially lit up by the lamp under us, a glimmer of amusement in his face. He's enjoying me fighting back.

I turn quickly and scramble up the steps on my hands and knees. He could totally stop me, but he lets me get away. I run towards the bedroom, which is at the end of the hall, but slam the bathroom door to make him think I've gone in there.

I run into my room and crouch behind my bed listening, as he does indeed fling the bathroom door open, letting it slam against the wall. If he put a dent in there, he's fixing it.

I feel my heart beating rapidly and I try to quiet my excited breathing as I hear his footsteps on the wood floor of the hallway.

"You little slut, don't you know that you're only making it worse for yourself?" A jolt of fear goes through me, the adrenaline spiking as I let myself give in and feel the panic.

I hear nothing for a solid minute, no breathing or footsteps, so I peek around my bed only to come face to face with one fuckhot Manchu. The look on his face at the thrill of catching me is evident.

He grabs my shoulder and forces me to stand, before he rips my shirt off the rest of the way and throws me down on top of my bed. His body follows and lands on mine and his heaviness is a relief; the feeling of him against me again is enough to make me shout out in joy.

Until he reminds me this isn't supposed to be a happy reunion. His breath is hot on my face, and I feel his hand roughly grab for the button on my pants and he yanks, hard. The zipper comes down with the force, and for a fleeting moment, I feel panic. It's thrilling.

I feel his mouth suck the skin of my collarbone greedily, before pulling my bra down and latching onto my nipple. He bites hard and I cry out, a wave of pleasure shooting right to my pussy.

"I thought I told you not to make a sound!" He growls into my face and I whimper, shaking my head back and forth.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Please, don't hurt me!"

He doesn't answer, just moves his mouth down to suck on my nipple again while I feel his hand grab the arm which is half-heartedly trying to beat on his back. He raises it above my head, holding it tightly while using his body weight to pin me so he can get ahold of my other arm, bringing them together in his grasp.

He holds them both with one hand tightly, and moves the other back down to my pants. I feel him shove his fingers down my panties and he lets out a moan.

"Holy shit, Half Pint, you're enjoying yourself." He says, breaking character, so I just say 'no' and shake my head back and forth before he returns to attacker mode.

He goes back to sucking my nipple while his fingers play in the wetness, roughly pinching my clit and rubbing hard. It feels amazing, and I do everything I can not to just give up and give him orders to put his mouth on me.

His hand continues playing for a bit, until I feel him pull the open waistband of my jeans down, enough so that my knees can bend but I'm still confined. I realize he's trying to open his own pants and I want to ask if I can help, but I play victim and thrash a bit, in protest.

He makes quick work of his pants and suddenly I feel his cock, hard and throbbing at my entrance. He rubs it over my clit a few times, getting it wet. His hand on my wrists loosens, and then leaves all together, but not before he taps them once telling me silently to keep them where they are.

I see him reach back into his pocket and it hits me what he's doing.

"No, no condom." I whisper, and he hesitates, looking at me. I nod once, sharply, and I see the gleam in his eye when he gives in and continues rubbing his cock on me.

"It's so big, it's going to hurt me." I try to get him back into it.

"I'm going to make it so that you can't walk for days." I feel him test my wetness again, before sliding his dick into me, still slowly, but far more quickly than he's gone previously so that I'm jarred by the sudden invasion. My reaction is real when I suck my breath in and bite my lip.

"This is what bad girls get." He starts pumping into me fast, taking me quickly and without giving me any stimulation by rubbing my clit like he has before. The fantasy is supposed to make it all about him, and it thrills me that he's being uncharacteristically selfish and playing this out completely.

I'm unable to move my legs very well, so they are closer together than they'd normally be, a fact I think he's enjoying. He starts to move forcefully, causing my body to move up and down the bed.

"Fuck, so good, I knew you'd be good."

"Stop, stop." I song song, and we both can tell I'm so not saying stop. I remember that my hands aren't really bound, so they fly down to his shoulders, grasping them as he pounds into me, and I feel myself start to tighten around him.

"Don't you come, this is for me, and you're not allowed to enjoy this." He grunts while moving over me, and I wonder how I'm going to stop it. Before I can figure out if reciting baseball stats helps women too, he fucks me hard with a few long thrusts and shudders, his come filling me as he moans loudly next to my ear.

His body gives out and his full weight presses down on me, while I rub his shoulders waiting for him to come to. He rolls over, pulling himself out, and flops onto the bed next to me. "Are you ok?" He asks, trying to catch his breath.

"Yeah, I'm fine." I look at him. "Although, I am a little pent up at the moment." I sit up and remove my pants fully, throwing them on the floor.

"I'm sorry about that, Half Pint. You know I'd never leave you hanging normally." He laughs. He's evil.

"Well, I'm right here, waiting." I wave my hands down my naked body, in invitation.

He leans up on one elbow to look at me, the smile from a moment ago fading.

"Really, are you ok?" He asks, concern lacing his voice.

"Yes, really."

"Did you like it?" He asks, and begins to rub my thigh.

"Um, I liked the danger, the panic of feeling like it was out of my control. I definitely liked fighting you." I grin at the memory of kicking his knee. "Did you like it?"

"Honestly? Not really."

"Then why did you do it?" I ask quickly, upset that he might be regretful.

"If my notes are correct, I remember a moment in class when someone said that maybe agreeing to an act such as this, a man wants to fulfill his partner's desires. That he wants to please her."

My stupid no-dating heart melts a bit at his statement. "So you got nothing out of it?" I say, awed that he did this just because it might've been something I was interested in.

He moves his body so that mine is forced back onto the bed, and he hovers over me. His eyes are shining and his mouth turns up into his devil grin. "Oh I got something out of it, all right. I got to fuck you rough and hard, and without a condom. Just feeling my cock slipping into you completely bare almost ended me."

"So what didn't you like specifically?" I ask breathless as I feel his lips begin to start a trail from my neck to my breasts.

He looks up at me, meeting my eyes, and replies softly. "I didn't like the idea that men can do that to women, so easily." He swallows, and I run my hand through his hair. "And I didn't like even _pretending_ that I was going to hurt you."

He keeps his eyes open as he lowers his mouth to mine, kissing me soundly before trailing his tongue down my body. "I've got some make up work to do, Professor."

I nod in agreement, my eyes sliding closed at the feel of his mustache on my thigh before his tongue works my clit, licking hungrily.

* * *

It's five o'clock in the morning, and I'm watching Manchu put his pants on from my very comfortable, very satiated sedentary position.

"I guess that's three more questions for you to ask, huh?" I say, amused.

"Don't feel too bad, Half Pint, you got two out of me." He grins and reaches for his shirt, which had been removed by me about a half an hour ago. If he's reluctant to go and wishing I'd ask him to stay, he's playing it off well.

"Okay, I have one. Where have you been all week?" My eyes widen in surprise at my question, as he stops dressing and looks at me, a solid smirk in place.

"Aw, did you miss me?"

"Shut up." I kick my bare foot out, grazing his leg.

"I didn't have a good week." He looks at me sadly, and I understand.

"I'm sorry to hear that."

He sits heavily on the bed, grabbing my foot and placing it in his lap. His thumb traces over my blood red toenails as he sighs.

"I'm not happy with Kayla's test results." I move my foot back and forth in his hand, kind of like a soothing gesture on his thigh and he squeezes it. "Okay, I'm off." He puts my foot back under the sheet and stands, coming over to lean down to kiss me goodbye softly.

He keeps his mouth near mine. "Come over tonight?" When I nod yes, he kisses me again and it's all I can do to not pull him back on top of me.

* * *

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**From the planetblue Archive of Awesome Fic List:**

**Outbound by aftrnoondlight**

Two beautiful souls humbly traveling life's lonely path, until fate suddenly shows her hand. Will Edward and Bella surrender willingly... A tender, romantic tale of love and life in the clouds.

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	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14 **

I ride my bike up Manchu's driveway, pulling to a stop behind where he's parked, obviously having just finished a ride of his own. He looks especially sexy with his helmet and riding gear on, and when he removes his helmet I see that he has his black bandanna on underneath, making him even sexier. He takes his gloves off and places them on the seat before looking up at me and flashing me his gorgeous smile.

I pull my helmet off and jump off my bike quickly, immediately starting to laugh as I walk to where he is. Attached to his bike is a sidecar, and in it is one goggle-sporting Roscoe.

"Oh my god, that's probably the cutest thing I've ever seen." I bend over to pet Roscoe, who looks as happy as a bulldog can, with his tongue hanging out the side of his mouth. He's got a leather vest on that matches Manchu's, emblem on the back and everything.

"He loves it. Can't get enough." He grins and takes Roscoe's goggles off before releasing him from his harness. The dog lumbers out and walks to the porch.

I think Manchu is about to lean in and kiss me hello, but he moves instead to pick up his helmet and gloves, and starts walking to the house.

After we all file in, Manchu gets Roscoe fresh water and asks me if I mind if he takes a shower.

My eyebrows wiggle and he laughs, telling me he really wants to get clean and all I'll do is make him dirtier.

I fake pout and sit at the counter in the kitchen, watching as he takes off his vest. "What is that emblem on the back of your vest? I've never seen it before." I've become fairly knowledgeable of all the different bike clubs and associations in the area. I assume it's from wherever he lived previously.

I watch as Manchu walks to his wine rack, grabbing a bottle near the top. He puts it down in front of me on the counter, and I recognize the symbol on the bottle as being the same.

"You put an emblem from a wine bottle on your vest?" I ask, confused.

"This wine is from Volturi Vineyards in Italy. My family's vineyard. It's our family crest."

"You own a vineyard." I state, blankly. Of course he does.

"Well, my family does. I don't get over there much anymore or have anything to do with it, really. My father runs the stateside aspect. I've been hoping to return soon." He grabs an opener and a glass, and proceeds to pour. "I should let it breathe a bit, but go ahead. Try it." He slides the glass to me and I take a sip.

"Delicious."

"This is our most popular Shiraz." He takes a sip from my glass and licks his lips.

"I noticed a picture in the hall, of you and Rose with I assume your father. Where is your mother?"

"That's one question." He says, smirking at me while holding up a finger.

I roll my eyes at him and push my bangs away. "Fine."

"My mother, unfortunately, died right before I graduated. The doctors said it was heart failure, but I know it was more; it was from a broken heart. She was never the same after Margaret. She gave up and didn't take care of herself."

"That must make you angry. That she left the three of you behind." I feel a certain kinship in his revelation, my mother not caring about Emmett and I enough after my father died, instead throwing herself into her religious fanaticism and ultimate deterioration.

"I don't blame her. Losing a child, regardless of how many others you have, takes a part of you away. I've seen it plenty. Do you know how high the divorce rate is after a child dies? She survived the best she could."

"Where is your father now?" Manchu lightens the mood by holding up a second finger, which earns him a sigh of exasperation.

"My dad still has his house over in Belle Meade. Rose lives there. He's gone half the year to Italy for business, so it works for them. He's actually due in next week for a while. I'm excited to see him."

I furrow my brow in question. "Emmett told me you were new to the area. I assumed you moved here from out of state."

"I lived in Chicago for a while, after finishing med school and then did a stint in a hospital there. After that, I went to Africa for six months with Doctors Without Borders."

I think of the picture in the hallway of Manchu, smiling and surrounded by what I know now to be African children. My heart swells, and I fight back the urge to tear up from the sheer beauty of him. I listen as he continues.

"I moved back to Nashville, but had an apartment about thirty minutes away in Springfield. I just bought this house a few months ago. So technically, I am new to the area." He smirks and leaves me to shower. "Make yourself at home."

After he goes upstairs, I refill my glass and walk around the kitchen, looking at the fancy equipment and snooping through the glass in the cupboards to see what kind of dishes he has. I find a powder room and laundry room, which are combined like you find in a lot of older homes.

He isn't gone long, and when he returns he's wearing an old Northwestern T-shirt and a pair of cargo shorts, the sight enough to make me moan.

"What was that?" He asks me, narrowing his eyes and grinning.

"Nothing. I didn't say anything."

"You moaned."

"I did not, you're full of shit." I swallow some wine, hoping he doesn't notice the color of my face.

"Half Pint, I think I know what your moans sound like." He rubs his hand over his chest like he does when he's proud of himself.

"Whatever. Is that why I'm here, to be the brunt of your biting wit?" I complain, but smile behind my glass.

"I don't think it's my wit that will be biting tonight." He pours himself a glass of wine and leans his elbows on the counter, watching me as I lean back on his sink.

"Oh no?" I try to appear nonchalant, but I like the idea of him marking and bruising me.

"No. My mouth will be. Biting and licking and chewing."

"Chewing?" I wrinkle my nose at the weird description.

"Yes, chewing." He grins and reaches for his cordless phone. "On pizza, I'm starving. What do you like on yours?"

"Uh, I thought we weren't going to be partaking in food together."

He looks at me and a flash of exhaustion crosses his face. "It's just a pizza, Half Pint. Not a marriage proposal." He snaps at me.

Ouch. I feel like I've been reprimanded.

He sees me tense up, and his face softens. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to lash out at you. I'm trying to abide by this arbitrary 'too personal' thing you've set up, but I want to eat a pizza and I figured you were hungry. Can't we just have a bite to eat without it being something that goes against these rules of yours?"

I think about the lines I've drawn around whatever it is we're doing here. It's almost like if I give in on eating or sleepovers, I'm admitting that I've started to develop feelings for him. I take the easy way out, and just agree.

"Yes, of course. Pepperoni."

He walks to me and puts his arms on my shoulders. "I _am_ sorry. I've been stressed and it's not your fault."

I nod, upset with myself that my increasingly questionable need for a non-relationship has possibly made the situation between us tense. "I'm sorry too. I take things to the extreme, I know."

He kisses my forehead and removes his arms. "Pepperoni you say? Are olives ok too?" Manchu takes a step back and looks at the phone, ready to dial.

"Sure." I feel relief that the semi argument is over, but I can't get rid of the feeling that we've just hit the tip of the iceberg on an issue to be called Titanic.

* * *

I'm sweaty and trying to catch my breath when I hear a phone ringing across the room.

I'm lying on Manchu's floor surrounded by those big pillows that he graciously pulled from the bed once he was done fucking me against the wall. It's where I landed and was too tired to move.

He gets up quickly and I watch his ass upside down as he walks to his dresser to answer it as Dr. Cullen. It must be the hospital. He listens for a moment before putting his hand over the microphone, telling me he needs a few minutes.

I get up, wanting to give him some privacy and make my way to the bathroom, once again envious of the shower. I make a mental note to get in there soon.

Returning to the bedroom, I see he's sitting on the bed, still on the phone, so I smile and make my way to his walk-in closet, and run my hands over his suits. I see a white shirt hanging loosely from a hanger and put it on, not wanting to disturb the ones that are obviously freshly dry-cleaned.

As I'm about to walk back out, I see a red tie hanging from the tie rack, it's knot already in place, like he couldn't bother untying it correctly before pulling it over his head. I slip it on and arrange it so it hangs between my breasts, at the opening of the shirt that I've buttoned only at the bottom.

I walk out and he's got his head in his hand, leaning on his knee, so I leave the bedroom with the intent of getting more wine in the kitchen.

I find a treat for Roscoe, figuring he's been a good boy while locked downstairs again. I spend some time with him, rubbing his head and playing with a squeaky toy near his bed.

I refill my glass and walk through the entryway, towards the formal living room. It really is pristinely neat and I'm glad my house was dark last night so he couldn't see the state it's in. He must employ a cleaning service. Also, there are no boxes to be found anywhere, which makes me feel like a real slouch, since he's lived here less time than I've lived in mine.

The room is beautifully furnished, if not a bit on the stuffy side. It's obvious he lives more on the other side of the house, in the big family room/kitchen area. The walls in here are a sage green with artwork and sculpture on the shelves, and the windows have the same curtains as in the family room.

I walk through the space towards the intriguing staircase at the back, the four steps leading down to a smaller hallway. I find another full bathroom, and looking in another doorway, find some weights, a treadmill, and a punching bag. The thought of Manchu sweaty and boxing makes me smile. I'll have to ask if I can watch him someday.

I near the end of the hall where the last door stands, and debate opening it. It's slightly ajar, so I put my foot on it and push gently. "Oops." I say, as it swings open.

It's clearly a home office; dark wood and leather furniture making it look like a stately study. I can picture men with cigars gathered around and drinking brandy out of crystal glasses. There's a huge desk sitting in front of the window that overlooks the backyard.

I walk around the perimeter, which has bookcases rising up to the ceiling, intermittently spaced with walls holding artwork between them, giving it a striped effect.

The first bookcase on the wall farthest from the desk holds a slew of novels, ranging in subject from mysteries and crime to biographies. I can see where he gets all of his material to speak with Mimi. I pass the gap containing a beautiful painting of a Midwestern cornfield and move to the second bookcase, which contains very serious looking medical tomes. Titles like 'Oxford Textbook of Oncology' and 'Principals of Pediatric Oncology' stick out when I graze my hand over their bindings.

I make my way further into the room, about to check out the third bookcase closest to the big desk, before stopping short at the space where I expect another painting to hang.

This wall holds a different type of art; a wild mass of chaotic color.

Construction paper snowflakes intertwine with cheerful handmade cards and drawings, notes and tissue paper flowers dot sporadically around the setting. All of it obviously the handiwork of Manchu's patients. There are many drawings of a man in green scrubs, and it makes me smile. There are dozens of photographs of children, some obviously undergoing treatment and some that look cancer free.

I open some of the cards with my finger, reading misspelled words of thanks and love. My eyes well up at the thought of how many lives he's touched.

"So you found my shrine, huh?"

I startle and look behind me at Manchu, leaning casually against the doorframe, dressed only in loose black pants tied at the waist. They hang dangerously low, and show the V in the muscles that lead down to the part of him that is well defined, even through the relaxed fabric.

"Yes, sorry. They love you a lot."

"No, I mean it's my shrine to them." He walks and stands next to me, looking at the wall. I turn my attention from him and look over the artwork, trying to imagine what he feels when he gazes upon it.

"It's wonderful. All of these lives you've saved."

"Not all." I look at him and a shadow of sadness crosses his features. I wonder if the call he took had to do with Kayla.

"Tell me." I whisper, trying to convey that I want him to feel free to share the happiness and the sadness with me.

He swallows, and traces a picture of an elephant with his finger, the signature reading 'Derek'. "Lymphoblastic leukemia, March 2010. He loved baseball."

He slides to a paper heart, with the words 'I love Dr. Cullen' written in purple marker. "Annie, Rhabdomyosarcoma, October this past year. She had a crush on me." He glances at me and smiles a sad smile.

I wonder at the fact that he's sharing difficult things, Rose's words of him not letting people close ringing through my head.

His mood shifts and he points to a picture of a mother and father flanked by three kids and a dog, and points to the girl in the middle, she appears to be about sixteen. "Becky, in remission from Hodgkin's lymphoma for a year now."

"That's great."

"It is." I feel him slide his arm around my waist and he pulls me into his side.

After a few moments of looking at the wall, I apologize. "Sorry if I was snooping. Oh, and I gave Roscoe a treat, hope that was ok."

Manchu takes my wine from me and takes a sip, before moving to the desk and sitting in his chair. "It's fine. I've told you to make yourself at home." He leans back and looks at me over the rim of the glass. "Cute tie."

I look down, remembering what I'm wearing. "I wanted to see what the appeal of menswear was."

"And?"

I shrug. "Looks better on you." I finger the end of the tie with one hand.

"I beg to differ." Manchu rakes his eyes over the opening in the shirt where the tie lays, and crooks his finger at me, beckoning me closer.

I walk the three feet to him slowly, swaying my body and perching my hip on the side of the desk. His fingers pull at the shirt, silently asking me to move in front of him. I stand between his desk and where he's pushed his chair back, and notice the erection in his pants. I quirk an eyebrow at him, and he just looks back at me with a smug look on his face.

"Have a seat." He motions for me to sit on his desk so I shuffle my body up, crossing my legs at the ankle. His eyes drink me in for a moment, his fingers rubbing the hair on his chin, before leaning towards me and unbuttoning the shirt I'm wearing slowly. I watch his face as he parts the material, placing the shirttails on either side of me. His hands nudge my knees and I spread them, fully exposing myself to him.

"Fucking beautiful. La tua fica è fottutamente bella." He smirks at me when he sees my eyes burn at his phrase.

"What did you say?" I whisper, my skin vibrating at the way his hands stroke my thighs gently while spreading them further.

"Your pussy is fucking beautiful."

I suck a breath in and he hovers over me, inhaling my scent and circling his thumbs on the inside of my thighs. He lets out a moan as he sees me clench my pussy, but surprises me when he leans back in his chair.

"Touch yourself."

I've never done this before in front of someone. Sure, I touched myself watching his neighbors, but he was behind me. He's right in front of me now, wanting me to put on a show. The thought excites me, and makes me feel deliciously dirty.

I tease him a bit, my hand skimming my breast as I lean back on the desk with the other. My fingers tweak my nipple, and I let out a soft 'oh', before taking my palm and running it over the nub, squeezing and playing with my breast.

"I love your curves. Your body is perfect. Soft and voluptuous." He shifts in his seat and takes another sip of wine, his eyes never leaving my hand, which has begun to trail down to between my legs.

Before landing on my pussy, I take my fingers and gently rake them across the skin right above, making my hips move a little in their own impatience.

Manchu reaches out and takes my left foot and places it on the arm of his chair, before doing the same with the other. He leans back again, and this time, his own hand rubs against his cock, extended in the thin fabric. I watch him rub for a bit, and when he grasps himself through the material, I bring my fingers to my pussy, first rubbing the clit and then moving down to touch the wet folds.

"Fuck, yes." He says, his eyes dark as he watches me play with myself, taunting my clit with two fingers before rubbing in a circle.

"Inside." His eyes shoot to mine and it's a direct order. My fingers follow his command and I whimper as I feel my own finger enter me. I drop my head back at the sensation, my long hair brushing the papers on his desk. I continue fingering myself until I feel his mouth on me and I snap my head up to look.

His tongue is joining my fingers, licking and sucking at my opening. I move to rub my clit again, and his tongue replaces them, delving deep inside, lapping the sides of my pussy.

Abruptly, he leans back again and a slow smile spreads over my face as I see him untying the drawstring of his pants, pulling out his massive cock. His hand starts stroking and I'm mesmerized by the up and down movement, by the skin being manipulated and turning red.

I start to rub faster, and our combined moans permeate the air. I'm breathing heavy, watching him pleasure himself while I'm still working at my own orgasm.

"I don't know if I should watch your beautiful face or your glorious cunt when you come." He says, his voice husky and needy while jerking his hand over his shaft. He darts his hand out and swipes it on my pussy, transferring my wetness to his cock as he resumes stroking.

"Oh god, I'm going to come." I pant, feeling my orgasm fast approaching. I rub my clit fast while my hips writhe on the desk, getting closer and closer until finally I feel the muscles contract and waves of pleasure flood my body.

"Fuck!" Manchu shouts out at the sight of my pussy clenching on my fingers, the sway of my hips extending the feeling my hand is still delivering. His hand speeds up, and he's watching me watch him.

"Oh that was beautiful, baby. I'd watch you come all day." His voice is throaty, hitching with his quick movements. I can tell he's close.

"Come on me." I reply, a little surprised at myself, but I can't think of anything I want more in that moment. "Come on my tits."

He stands quickly, and moves the tie over my shoulder. His hips thrust and his hand continues moving, until he leans closer and gives his shaft two long strokes, his warm come suddenly spurting out of him and landing all over my chest in thick ropes.

He continues stroking a moment, his head hanging down and his chest heaving. I look down at my own chest, covered in him, and he pulls some tissues from a box on the desk to wipe me off.

"I'm proud of you." He says while reaching for more tissues.

"Cause I took it like a champ?" I grin.

"No," He smiles at me and discards the tissues, before leaning in for a kiss. "Because you asked for it."

* * *

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**From the planetblue Archive of Awesome Fic List:**

**The Tutor by ItzMegan73**

New student Bella Swan needs to break out of her shy exterior and her guidance counselor has the answer: tutoring. And Bella is too new to know she shouldn't want to tutor Edward Cullen.

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	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

"Oh my." I hear Mimi mutter next to me on Wednesday, over the din of the other coffee goers.

I look at her and then at where her gaze is directed, and see Manchu walking towards us in his scrubs, followed by a good looking older man with hair color reminiscent of Rose's, if not faded a bit with time. I immediately recognize him from the picture in the hallway as Manchu's father.

His skin is tanned, and he walks behind Manchu with a similar swagger. As they approach, I grow increasingly nervous, as meeting his father was never discussed. I naturally assumed that we'd keep family out of this in general, barring Rose and Emmett.

"Isabella Swan, I'd like you to meet my father, Carlisle Cullen." Manchu pulls a chair out for his father, who leans over to shake my hand hello.

"It's nice to meet you, Manchu mentioned you'd be arriving from Italy this week."

He sits and crosses his legs, the move strangely seductive. "Who?" His eyes crinkle at the corners as he smiles at me, confused.

"Oh gosh, sorry. Edward." The name comes out of my mouth feeling foreign.

Manchu laughs and explains the nickname to his father, and outs me as Half Pint. I tap his shin with my foot, gently chastising him.

"Ow." Okay, maybe it wasn't such a tap. He makes a show of rubbing his leg, embarrassing me more.

"Edward said you were pretty, Isabella, but he never said your friend here was just as lovely." Mr. Cullen turns to Mimi and extends a hand. "Carlisle Cullen."

Mimi looks dazed as she reaches out to greet him. "Esme Platt, but my friends call me Mimi."

"Well, Mimi," he says as he closes his other hand over the pair that are clasped. "I sincerely believe we're going to be great friends."

I look at Manchu who is smiling at the pair, and whisper to him that I know where he got it from.

"What, the unbelievable charm?" He smirks at me.

"No, the cockiness." I chuckle softly as his eyes shine.

"Oh no, he learned that from me." His mouth turns up in the shit-eating grin he seems to favor.

I shake my head in disbelief, "Did you plan this?" I nod towards the new friends.

"I had thought maybe they'd take a liking to each other, sure. They have similar interests."

"I didn't know you'd gotten to know her that well." I look over to make sure they aren't listening to us talk about them, and see they're engrossed in each other, and that Mr. Cullen is checking out the book open in front of her.

He shrugs. "She's an avid reader, widow, retired executive of a distribution company, plus she's kind and funny, I thought it would be nice for both of them. He really hasn't dated much."

His selfless nature catches me off guard again, and I feel stupid that he keeps surprising me. I study him as he begins to join in their conversation, his joy that they seem to be getting along evident on his face. The big heart he has for others makes me wonder why he's a willing participant in an arrangement that is supposed to have no love in it at all.

* * *

The weeks begin to fly by, spring definitely moving aside, making way for a typically hot summer. Between finals hell and helping Angie plan her fast approaching wedding, I've had little time to do anything else.

She's decided on having the ceremony and reception at The Loveless Barn, a funky "downhome" venue that has an interior with wood beams on the ceiling and an outdoor space decorated with light strings crossing the patio. Décor decisions are largely taken out of our hands as the barn screams rustic country beauty.

Embracing the feel of the space, Angie will dress casually but elegantly, the skirt of her gown slightly off the floor to showcase her white cowboy boots.

It's a party I'm looking forward to, and I enjoy helping pick out the final details since Ben really has no clue. It is with a tinge of regret that despite Angie and Alices' encouragement to ask Manchu to the wedding, I sent in my RSVP with a 'one' marking the space for number of guests in my party.

In fact, Emmett has asked Rosalie to be his date and I wonder if she and Manchu talk about those sorts of things, if he knows that I didn't ask him to attend. Perhaps he's relieved.

* * *

Having returned from the florist, Angie and I are sitting at an outdoor café one afternoon, enjoying a couple of margaritas when she brings my RSVP up.

"I don't get why you wouldn't ask him to come with you. You seem to enjoy his company." She laughs and slurps her drink, this one and the one prior starting to have an effect.

"I do enjoy his company, but it's not like that." I crunch a chip, shaking my head.

"I don't get it."

I look at her and raise my hands up by my shoulders, dramatically shrugging. "We're not dating."

"I don't get it."

I sigh, aggravated. "I don't want to date him."

"Are you sure about that?" I sit back in my chair, taking my drink with me. No, I'm not sure of anything anymore.

"Maybe he doesn't want to date me either." I point out.

She scoffs at me. "I've seen the way he looks at you, the man has eyes for no one else."

"Well, he's never said anything.'

"Have you? I can see where your stubbornness might make him reluctant to put himself out there." I shut my trap and scowl at her being right. "Seriously, Iz, I get that you think you're not good at relationships. You've had some bad luck, and I also get why you want to be alone for a while. Trust me when I say sometimes I wish I'd been a single girl for a bit longer before I met Ben, but when it's right, it's right. There's no timeline."

I think about what she's saying, and try to make a few points. "I'm comfortable in my own skin for the first time in a long time. I have not one, but two jobs I love and kick ass in. I own a home of my own. I really like who I am now. I don't want to jeopardize losing the person I'm discovering because a man came into the picture."

"Have you ever thought about things possibly becoming even greater when you're sharing it with someone? Being with someone doesn't need to be a prison sentence. I mean, who are you trying to convince here?"

I say nothing, and reach for the chips while Angie continues.

"Any man worth having, is going to want and enjoy the fact that you have your own life and things that make you happy. Does Manchu seem like the selfish type?"

"Just the opposite." I think about the quality in him that's surprised me the most. "But he's never said he wanted anything more either." I point out, again.

Angie sighs and signals the waitress over for another round. "If you two continue to assume the other doesn't want anything more, one or both of you are going to be severely disappointed when it ends, most likely badly."

I narrow my eyes at her in displeasure, but inside, I can't help but mull over what she's said.

* * *

The Friday night before Angie's wedding on Sunday, I'm dancing on the bar with one of Tori's friends, Jane, who is there for her bachelorette party. Her wedding is on Sunday as well. The girls are having a great time, taking me up on every offer of shots, especially when I'm doling them out into their open mouths from the bar. I think they like the male attention they're getting when they're bent over backwards.

Angie is off tonight, getting the final preparations for the wedding and honeymoon together, so I'm working with Jessica. We're having a good time; she seems to be trying to up her insult game with the customers, and is giving me a pretty good run for my money.

Jane and I grind a bit to "Honkytonk Woman", the men below us hollering for us to take our clothes off. We have an assortment of bras that hang on a set of bullhorns over the bar; we even have a celebrity bra or two up there, but we keep our shirts on despite their protests. The ones hanging have been taken off under shirts, the way women can. I worry a bit about Tori's friends, as they seem to be ready to add to the pile in the easiest way possible, stripping completely.

I jump down to help Jane, and I shake my head and smile at their antics, they're definitely lifting the fun factor for the crowd tonight, and Emmett and Seth are having to work overtime to make sure they stay dressed and upright.

I'm surprised to see James move up to the bar, and he explains that Tori asked that he come by later in the night, as by then her drunk friends wouldn't notice and they could leave together. I'm happy to see him, we haven't had much time to chat during finals and I make him a drink.

"I hear your friend Angie is getting married Sunday too." He says loudly so I can hear him.

"I know, weird coincidence. Are you looking forward to Jane's?" I catch the eye of the guy next to James who asks for a beer, so I go to the cooler to grab it, popping off the top and flinging it at the bell, making it ring.

"Yeah, it should be fun, but I won't know anyone other than Tori."

"You know how personable she is. She'll introduce you to everyone."

He nods his head, smiling. "You're actually in your friend's, right?"

"Yup, maid of honor here." I grin and grab a wine for the lady behind the guy with the beer.

"Is Angie nervous?" He takes a careful sip of his drink and looks over to wave at Tori, who looks excited to see him.

"No, I don't think so, she hasn't let on anyway. It's going to be a great day. We'll both have a great time, I'm sure. Don't be nervous about not knowing anyone." I place my hand on James and hear a throat clearing.

I look over into the fiery eyes of Manchu, who has replaced the guy with the beer at the bar.

"Hey." I say surprised, as I wasn't expecting him since tomorrow he has his Saturday hours.

"Hey yourself." He replies acerbically, and I'm taken back by his tone.

"James, this is Man-…Edward." I correct myself, shaking my head. "Edward, this is James Reynolds, he teaches Sociology of Film at Belmont."

Manchu has his arms crossed against his chest and makes no move to offer his hand to James, who looks decidedly uncomfortable.

"Okay, well I guess I'll head on over there." He nods his head in Tori's direction, and with one last glance at Manchu, turns to leave the bar.

"What the hell was that?" I ask immediately, throwing my rag over my shoulder and crossing my arms, mimicking his stance.

One shoulder lifts in a shrug. "You tell me."

"James and I work together."

"Sounds like you're doing more than working. I guess he's your date for Angie's wedding, huh?" His eyes flash at me, hotly, before looking down at the bar and up again towards the band. His jaw is tense and he won't look me in the eyes.

I feel my spine lose its angry rigidity, and I lean over to grab his favorite beer from the cooler to the right. Popping the top off and placing it in front of him, I flick the cap at his chest.

He looks down and then at me quickly as his eyes widen.

"You're such a shmuck." I can't help but smile at him. "He's going to a different wedding. That girl over there." I nod towards the girl in the veil. "He started dating my coworker in the red shirt, the wedding is Sunday as well."

I see when what I've said sinks in, and he grabs his beer, taking a long swallow. "Oh."

"Yeah, oh." I mock. He looks at me slightly chagrined, and I see his smile starting to spread. The next question is out of my mouth before I can stop it. "Are you jealous, Manchu?"

I stand stock still, hoping he didn't hear my outrageous question.

"Maybe a little." The devil grin makes an appearance as he relaxes and leans forward on the bar. "I can't imagine you'd find anyone that looks better in a suit than I do on your arm."

I roll my eyes at him and get a beer for a girl in the bachelorette party. I see her eye Manchu and get a bit jealous myself, silently threatening her until she slinks away. "I'm going stag."

"I had thought that was your plan until I walked in here and overheard your conversation." Manchu rests his hand in his chin, elbow on the bar, surveying me.

I shrug and lean on the bar towards him. "It's the plan."

"It doesn't have to be."

I'm startled and I look at him, his eyes sincere and he smiles at me, shyly.

"You want to go to this wedding with me?" I ask, shocked. "I'm going to be busy doing maid of honor stuff, I won't be able to really see you until the reception."

He shrugs. "I know how to make friends."

In my head, I'm fighting myself, but in my heart, I know I want him there at my side.

"If you're sure…"

He smiles his huge smile at me, the one that makes my heart skip. "I'm sure."

* * *

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**From the planetblue Archive of Awesome Fic List:**

**The Give Away Girl by MrsSpaceCowboy**

Honor student Bella Swan has mastered the arts...of manipulating her divorced parents, rolling the perfect joint, and faking an orgasm. Who wouldn't want to keep a girl like her? An unconventional coming of age tale for Gen Xer Bella. Rated M.

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	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

My nerves are getting the best of me as I try to apply a little more mascara with shaky hands on the day of Angie's wedding.

I've been ready for what feels like hours. I'm trying not to touch my head, the sides pinned at the back and the rest flowing down in big curls. I'm also trying not to sit, as I'm already in the pretty blue dress Ang and I had picked out just last week at Nordstrom's.

Finding the strapless gown led me to ask Ang if she wanted me to wear a light sweater or shawl, something that would cover my tattoos for her big day. She gave me a 'what the fuck' look and a 'pfft' so I took that as a no, and in true Steel Horse bartender fashion, we found a black leather rosette to pin to my waist on the side, which matched the black cowboy boots she wanted me to wear, to offset hers.

I pace around the kitchen, Manchu's impending arrival has me acting like a high school girl getting ready for her first date. When we agreed he'd be coming to the wedding with me, a small argument ensued about my statement of meeting him there. Manchu insisted on picking me up, which I labeled as feeling date-ish, but wisely didn't voice. I let him win, his charm working overtime to get me to agree. The man should've been a lawyer with his ability to sway the jury, in this case, me.

The doorbell rings, and I take a deep breath, grabbing my leather clutch. I make my way to the living room and realize that I never tidied up. Crap.

Opening the door, I try to squirm out without him wanting to enter or see into the house, but he's too fast for me and puts a hand out, halting the door and pushing it inwards.

"Where's the fire?" He asks, amused before looking me over, head to toe. He lets out a low whistle. "Half Pint, you are stunning. That color on you, truly magnificent."

"Thank you. You look pretty good yourself." Understatement. The man is smokin' in his charcoal suit.

Manchu looks down at himself and smiles. "I do."

I shake my head at him, which I feel I do constantly, and try to push him out the door. "Hang on, I never really got to see your place the other night, in the dark." His grin turns frisky and I blush recalling the only time he has been here.

He steps in further and glances around at the space, admiring the painting over the couch before his eyes dart to the boxes. And the mail piled on the coffee table. And the stack of magazines yet to be recycled.

"Half Pint," he pauses and toes a box, like something will jump out at him. "Are you a hoarder?"

"What? No!" I cry, horrified. "I'm a really busy career woman. I don't have time to get everything done in a week, which leaves the weekends, and I've been occupied." I give him a pointed look. "I suppose I could look into hiring a cleaning service like you do-"

"I don't have a cleaning service." He cuts me off, amused by my outburst. Well hell. That means he's just really neat. He laughs, and puts his hand on my shoulder, sliding it down my arm. "Relax, I'm joking."

"Well, what I said is true, I know there are unpacked boxes and stuff..." I trail off, still feeling the need to defend myself.

"When did you move in?" He questions with narrowed eyes, the amusement in his voice evident.

I blow my bangs away, in frustration and lie. "Last week. Let's go, we'll be late."

He lets me get away with my story and chuckles, following behind me and taking my key from my hand to lock up. Ushering me to his BMW, his hand trails from the small of my back and up, over one of the branches of my cherry blossom tattoo that peeks out over the back of the dress, before fingering the ink on my shoulder. "You really are stunning, beautiful. Bella." He ends in his Italian accent, and I melt.

* * *

The ceremony goes off without a hitch, in the garden area of the outdoor space. Angie looks beautiful and radiant, and all of those other adjectives that a bride is supposed to be described as.

Walking down the aisle holding my wildflower bouquet, I catch sight of Manchu, who is seated with Emmett and Rosalie, behind Alice and Jasper. The smile he gives me as I pass threatens to make my knees buckle, and I admit I'm really glad I've asked him to come. The man could make me feel like the most special person in the room with just a look.

I cry, of course, when I watch Ben's face as he sees her for the first time, when they grasp hands after Angie's father walks her down the aisle, when she drops her bouquet handing it to me, and when they are announced man and wife. I might've also cried when I watched them retreat down the aisle, before taking the arm of Ben's best man and following behind the happy couple.

We move on to take the requisite pictures, but thankfully Ben and Angie want to enjoy their cocktail hour. We make quick work of the whole thing, telling the photographer they'd prefer more candid shots of the day than stiff, posed photos. It allows me to join Manchu quicker, and when I arrive at the high table they've occupied, he seems to be getting along just fine.

Rose checks out my dress and Manchu asks me what I'd like to drink, immediately going to fetch it for me. I give him a grateful smile when he hands me my cocktail. Maybe it's not so bad having a helpful male at these things.

"Oh my god, I'm going to get so drunk today." Alice states loudly, putting her bag down on the table and grabbing a shrimp off of a passing hors d'oeuvres tray.

"You deserve it." I say, eyeing the other trays passing by to see what's on them.

"This is the first time Jasper and I have been alone, or at an adult gathering, in weeks. Thank you, Kate!" Alice holds up her shrimp in a salute.

"Body shots on the bar later?" Jasper asks, kissing her head. She gives him a warm look, the two of them knowing what they've been through together.

Grinning, she pumps her fist in the air. "You know it. Today, I'm Malice." I explain the nickname to Manchu, who grins and tells Alice he would've liked to have seen her in action.

We talk and drink, grabbing appetizers as they go by, until the reception is scheduled to start. Manchu is very attentive, making sure my drink is full, walking next to me with his hand on my back, pulling out my chair when I go to sit.

I'm not surprised, necessarily, by his gentlemanly behavior; I've just not had a chance to experience it, due to the nature of our relationship. He's decidedly _un_-gentlemanly during mind-blowing sex, which of course is a good thing. I know I should be sticking to my plan and remembering this isn't a date, but it's too easy to fall into pretending that perhaps, we're a couple today.

We eat, we dance, we toast. Watching Angie and Ben flit around their guests and laughing with each other warms my heart, and apparently has the same effect on others. Emmett drops a bombshell on me while I'm trying to get the last drop of my cocktail in my mouth.

"So I think I'm going to ask Rose to marry me." He's leaning my way, voice low.

I take my glass from my mouth and look at him, my expression one of disbelief. "You're what?"

"Not now obviously, but soon. She's perfect."

"Geez Em, you've only been dating like, a month." I look over at Rose who is chatting with an increasingly drunk, but funny Alice. "Are you sure it's not the atmosphere and alcohol talking?"

He shrugs. "Maybe. But in my vast experience, alcohol just makes you honest."

He gets up to ask Rose to dance, and I watch her face as Emmett sashays her around the floor. It appears to me that if he were to ask, he'd be getting a yes.

Sighing, I lean back in my chair and a glass of champagne appears before me. I look up at Manchu, who's smiling at me, and I don't stop myself from falling into the romanticism of the day, and a warm feeling comes over me.

"Care to dance?" He asks, and I look at the hand he's holding out and nod.

Setting my champagne on the table, my hand slips into his and he guides me to the dance floor, a beautiful slow song starting to play. There aren't many windows in here, so the candles on the table give the room an evening glow. The linens and flowers Ang picked out add to the cozy and dream-like illusion.

His hand rests lightly on my back, and we begin to sway, our bodies together and moving like they've been doing it all our lives. His fingers play lightly over my dress, toying with the zipper, while his other hand holds mine gently, until our fingers interlace and he brings them to rest between us. It's decidedly intimate, and I have the urge to lay my head on his shoulder.

I hesitatingly look up at him, at his beauty, and fall a little bit deeper, mesmerized by the green in his eyes, the lashes that sweep upwards, the mustache that brings joy to a little girl and me in different ways. My heart starts beating rapidly, and my body becomes alive.

It's too close, it's too good, it's too easy.

Manchu must feel the sudden wavering going on inside me, as my body tries to break from his. He holds me tighter, unforgiving in his grasp. The hand holding mine between us gets infinitely tenser, and I think he's about to call me out on my fear when instead, he whispers, "Tell me your darkest fantasy."

I'm thrown; so sure he was going to snap about my behavior like he did the pizza, which causes me to not answer right away. A feeling of sorrow creeps over me; I know that he thinks he needs to change what's happening between us to stop me from running.

"What's the dirtiest thing you want done to you?" The hand on my back resumes it's sliding, this time less poetic and more possessive.

"I…I don't know." I can't think. The sudden change from intimately romantic to intimately sexual overrides my senses, while my confused brain tries to catch up.

"Threesome? Bondage? Tell me." It's a demand, like he knows he can get me to respond when he takes control.

"Uh, blindfolded."

He snickers. "You can do better than that."

Do I dare tell him? He took the forced fantasy idea and ran with it, without me really saying it was something I wanted. If I tell him, I know he'll deliver. "In public." I whisper.

"You want to be fucked in public?" His voice is throaty, close to my ear. His breath making my head spin.

"Yes." Barely a whisper escapes me.

"You want it to be me fucking you in public?"

I curl my hand up on his shoulder and lower my head, resting against his suit jacket and nod. I couldn't imagine anyone else.

"In a bar? At a party?"

Leaving my head where it is, I shake it, swiftly and speak into his tie. "No, I don't know. I don't want anyone to see me."

He chuckles darkly as he continues to hold me close, slowly moving us on the floor. I'm not even sure there's music playing, my entire being focusing on this exchange.

"Kind of defeats the purpose."

"Not anyone that would know me. I have students." My response is pleading, panicked.

"So, if there was a guarantee of no one you knew around, would you?"

I try to think of a scenario where I'd feel comfortable. "I don't know. As good as the fantasy is, it's just that. A fantasy."

"Some fantasies are made to become reality. I think we've proven that." I feel his fingers circling the top of my dress, before they dip inside, just under the zipper.

"I don't know that I'm an exhibitionist."

"So you want to be fucked in a public place, but not seen by the public." I look at him and his eyes are boring into me, leaving me nowhere to escape. "I must say, the thought of having people watch you get impaled by my cock would be quite exhilarating."

Involuntarily, my body presses closer to his, and I can feel how our conversation is affecting him, in turn, making me re-think my exhibitionist hang-ups to let him fuck me right here on the dance floor.

The music changes, a faster melody that inhibits our slow pace from continuing. I look around at the crowd surrounding us, suddenly aware that we could've been overheard.

We lock eyes for a minute, unmoving, both of us waiting for the other to speak.

We exit the dance floor silently.

* * *

I give one last hug to Angie and Ben, telling them to have a great honeymoon and chide them to actually get out of the hotel to see some of Aruba.

Manchu kisses Angie on the cheek and when he turns to Ben to shake hands, Angie gives me the look, the look saying I'm a dumbass.

I usher him out before she says anything in front of him, the liquor was flowing freely for the bride and groom as well as the guests. Catching up to a struggling Jasper in the parking lot, Manchu steps up to help wrestle a very inebriated and unwilling Alice into the car. I'm mortified when she puts her hand on his arm and slurs to him that I'm worth the effort. It appears I was worried about the wrong friend.

Talking over the top of her, I say goodbye to Jasper and pull Manchu along with me, and we get in his car to drive home.

It's quiet in the car, and I've got my head back, lolling on the headrest, thankful that Manchu has decided not to comment on what Malice said. Pulling up to my house, he turns off the ignition and climbs out to get to my door. I know he's expecting to be asked in, to spend the night, but he doesn't look too surprised when I kiss him and say thank you at the entryway. He rubs the back of my hand with his thumb, watching as it draws patterns on my skin, before giving me a half smile and walking back to the BMW.

* * *

I keep my ritual at the coffee shop even though school is out, and gossip with Mimi, who has been out with Mr. Cullen twice since they met. She's gushing like a schoolgirl and I can't help but smile and be happy for her, for her second chance at love.

Manchu doesn't appear, a few text messages back and forth throughout the week indicate he's at the hospital more than usual, and I worry for him, and for whatever patient is requiring so much of his time. I try to let him know I'm here for him if he needs it, and he thanks me every time, but doesn't elaborate further. The messages from him come across as robotic. I can't help but wonder if this is what Rosalie was talking about, the reluctance to allow closeness in his professional life running over, causing it to seep into personal life.

Thursday I try to clean my house, unpacking a box or two here and there. I find Fender tucked under some pillows in the guest room, and he lets me pet him, his gray fur silky under my hand. I talk to him for a while, about mice and life, before he burrows under the pillows further, cutting off contact. I try not to be insulted, he was never an overly friendly cat.

My phone rings downstairs so I hurry to answer, catching it before it slips to voicemail.

"Hey." It's Manchu, my first reaction is surprise as I think we've talked on the phone twice since we've met. My second reaction is that he doesn't sound so great.

"Hi. How are you?"

He ignores my question and I hear what sounds like stretching, followed by a sigh. "Are you busy tonight?"

Girl code 101 makes me unavailable for last minute plans. The tone in his voice however, makes me say I'm free.

He hesitates, and continues, the cadence of his voice tired. "Could you come over?"

"I'll be there in half an hour."

* * *

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**From the planetblue Archive of Awesome Fic List:**

**The Blessing and the Curse by The Black Arrow**

By pretending she is falling for Edward, Bella is fulfilling Esme's dying wish. But sexy, possessive Edward can read her mind. Will she ever get into his? Can Bella forget the pain of her teenage years, and can she resist his relentless seduction? AH.

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	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

What greets me at the door is what appears to be an exhausted Manchu. An exhausted Manchu holding a bottle of Jack Daniels. He doesn't seem drunk as he ushers me in and proceeds to the kitchen, but he hasn't really said much.

He takes down a highball glass from the cupboard near the sink as I watch from my usual stool at the counter. I see there's already a used glass on the granite next to me, and he walks over to pour some of the amber liquid into the new glass, and then some into his.

"What's up, Manchu?" I ask as he clicks his glass to mine before taking a healthy swallow. I follow suit but only take a sip, the alcohol burning down my throat. I'm more a Southern Comfort fan.

"Nothing. Just wanted company." He places his glass down with a clink on the stone, and braces his arms against the counter.

"Okay." I wait, my feminine intuition telling me he'll speak when ready, if at all.

We're bathed in silence, I sip while he sloshes the contents of his glass around in circles. I rethink wanting to ask what's wrong, but I can't seem to get the words out. I'm not sure if he'd want me to.

"Will you do something for me?" He asks, breaking the silence. "Will you come upstairs?" His eyes finally meet mine, and he looks so tired, so aged, I can only imagine the issue is the stress of keeping in your emotions and battling lost causes. It has to eventually seek out a way to be exorcised. I wonder if this is typical for him, every few months or so, or if something triggered it.

Is sex the vehicle? Is that what he needs?

I debate. "Of course." If he needs it, I don't have a problem with him using me. Wasn't I basically using him in theory?

He takes his bottle and glass, nodding his head for me to follow. We head up the stairs and I notice that he doesn't gate Roscoe in, and I narrow my eyes in confusion. I guess that means I'm here for something other than sexual release.

Upon arriving at his bedroom, he walks directly into the bathroom and takes his shirt off. Assuming he's going to completely strip and get in the shower, I'm surprised when he sits on the closed toilet and motions me over.

Cautiously, I cross from the carpet onto the tile, stepping up to where he is, our eyes meeting mine upon my arrival.

"Will you shave my mustache?"

The blood rushes through my head, making that pounding sound in your ears, like a heartbeat.

"I've had a little too much to drink." He holds up the half empty bottle and the whiskey sloshes inside, confirming.

"Has Kayla gone home?" I ask, hope trailing off the end of my question.

The moments tick by as I wait for him to answer, and finally, he looks at me, despair and heartache fill his eyes and his mouth turns down into a frown before he just shakes his head.

I'm about to step to him when he instructs me on where he keeps his shaving stuff, so I go to the drawer and pull out a little kit, containing a comb, some scissors, and different blades.

I try not to let my voice waiver as I speak. "I've never done this before."

"I trust you." Spoken so definitively. "You have to trim it first."

I reach out with a shaky hand towards his face, before the hint of a gleam comes to his eye. "You should take your shirt off."

I quirk an eyebrow at him, but step back and lift the shirt over my head.

"Bra too. Shaving cream is messy."

I put my hands on my hips, cocking my head to the side. He just shrugs, and the suggestion of a smile forms, but his eyes remain sad. I take my bra off as requested and step back up to him, my legs between his, comb and scissors in hand.

He lifts his face and stares at me as I begin to brush the little comb through one side, following with a clip of the scissors. I've trimmed most of it when I feel his hands start to slide up my legs and over my hips, coming to rest on either side of my waist.

I stop trimming and look at him, and his hands move slowly around my back, pulling me infinitely closer, before engulfing me in a hug with his face pressed to my stomach.

I don't mention the wetness I feel on my skin when my hands go around his shoulders and I lean my head down to rest on his.

* * *

After I'm done shaving Manchu, he hops in the shower which he stays in for a good half hour. He didn't say anything more to me while I was busy concentrating on not nicking him, and I didn't push.

While I'm waiting for him, I decide to see if I can find him something to eat, and see a tray of warm lasagna already sitting on the counter. I hesitate to open some wine, thinking he probably shouldn't mix his alcohol, when he comes up behind me and pulls a bottle from the shelf. The smell of him fresh from washing makes me heady, and I move to find some plates and silverware.

"Hope you don't mind, I saw the lasagna and figured you should eat."

"Sounds good, actually, I haven't had a real meal in a few days. Rosalie popped that over earlier."

The sound of the cork being extracted from the bottle comes from behind me, and the glug of wine filling glasses.

"Do you want to eat outside?" He asks, holding a glass out to me. He seems to have sobered up some in the shower, his eyes are clear, and I shift my gaze to his smooth face. He looks strange like this to me, bare. But there's no denying the facial hair wasn't there to cover up any flaws. He's just as beautiful mustache-less.

"Sure. I'll just grab the lasagna, and come back for the bread." We head outside into the warm night air; the sun about to set behind the house, making the sky over the pool darker than it would be in front.

Digging into our food, he seems lighter, whatever emotions he needed to get out have perhaps been released.

"So what do I call you now? I can't call you Manchu." I joke, blowing on a bit of cheese before putting it into my mouth.

"Why not? It'll grow back." He grins, and I can't stop staring at his naked face.

"No, I'll have to come up with something else. Baldy? Babyface?"

"Babyface? Sweetheart, does this look like a face that resembles anything other than a Greek God?"

I laugh and roll my eyes at his ego, glad his mood has lifted and that he's joking with me.

We continue eating, Manchu giving bites of bread to Roscoe who sits patiently at his feet, waiting for the treats.

Patting his stomach and sitting back on the cushioned outdoor furniture, Manchu rests his head back and closes his eyes. I continue to sip my wine and wonder what comes next.

A few minutes pass and I'm about to get up to clear our plates when he starts to talk, still with his head back and eyes closed.

"I picked this area of medicine knowing full well that I wouldn't be able to save all of them." He begins, and I watch as his throat moves with his voice. "But sometimes, sometimes I wonder why I didn't make it easier on myself and go into something like plastic surgery."

Not sure he actually wants me to say anything, I simply reply, "Boob jobs and teenage rhinoplasty?"

He chuckles and lifts his head, looking at the pool. "Exactly."

He drains his glass but doesn't pour another, setting it empty on the table.

"Kayla wasn't any more special to me than any other patient I've had. Granted, I was hopeful for a while there, that things were going our way, but as it sometimes does, life throws in it's own plan."

His phrase confuses me. "Wasn't any more special?" I parrot, questioning.

He sighs, exhausted, before he elaborates. "I love them all."

The impact of what he's said, of the amount of love he actually does have for his patients, makes me curious. "Can I ask you something personal?"

"Is this one of your allotted questions?" He asks, and grins.

"Nope." He waves his hand at me to continue. "Does this kind of evening happen often?"

"Are you asking if I regularly break down?"

"As professional as I assume you are, no human can keep their emotions at bay indefinitely. Especially not one dealing with what you do."

He exhales and looks back over the pool, the spread of evening having caused the lights to go on, giving it that blue glow. "Every once in a while, I permit it to get to me."

I nod, and he looks at me, before reaching over and grasping my hand.

"I've never asked anyone to witness it. I'm sorry."

I scoff, surprising him. "You call that letting it get to you? Please. I'd have a gallon of ice cream shoved down my gullet and my ugly crying would last for hours."

He laughs, a sound that makes me happy to hear. "Well, this one was tamer than some."

He swings our hands between our chairs, and I place my elbow on the table with my chin resting in my hand, watching him reminisce of perhaps worse evenings in his head.

"Half Pint, will you stay the night?" He asks quietly, his hand stopping it's movement and tightening around mine.

"Yes."

* * *

We're lying in his big, white bed, facing each other. Roscoe is snoring away on the floor; I think he's displeased I've taken up residence where he usually sleeps.

Nothing very important is being said, there's no talk of cancer or the importance of me saying yes to his request tonight.

He's on his stomach, arms around his pillow, his chin resting on the fluffy down. I've got my hands pressed together under my cheek, like a child in slumber.

"Why such a big house, Manchu? Big enough for that ego of yours?" I smile and laugh.

He returns my grin lazily, the cotton of the sheets rustling as he stretches. "Children. I want lots and lots of children."

His answer surprises me. "Even with what you do?"

"Especially because of what I do. I have a very loving, very large family. There are cousins, aunts, uncles…tons of us here and in Italy. I don't want to _not_ experience that just because there's a chance my child will get sick. You can't predict what's going to happen, and I'm not going to let statistics or my occupation get in my way of achieving the kind of family that I want, the kind of family that I have."

His statement endears him to me even more, but I can't help feeling guilty that perhaps I'm preventing him from meeting someone and starting this family he wants. "So, how many kids are you talking about?"

"Six." He grins devilishly, as my eyes go wide.

"Good luck with that Mr. Brady." I scoff.

"I have five bedrooms in this house. I want them packed." His eyes shine at me, the look on his face almost questioning, like he's wanting to ask what my inclination towards children is, what my opinion towards filling up this house with him might be.

The idea of having a family with Manchu starts to creep in, blissful visions of green-eyed babies and summer pool parties. I let the conversation die without further comment, as he hasn't formally asked my opinion anyway. We continue looking at each other over the expanse of the bed, no hurry to change our location.

After a while, we begin talking again, and he tells me a story about his first girlfriend, the girl he lost his virginity to. A redheaded girl named Mandy, whose parents went out of town a lot.

"You lost your virginity at fifteen? What were you, a sophomore?" I ask, incredulous.

"Of course. I was a stud." He grins at me, his shaved face taking on a boyish quality. "Why? When did you decide to give it up?"

"I was a late bloomer. College. My first boyfriend was my first everything."

"Lucky man. How long did that last?"

"Not too long." I hesitate to reveal more, but I soon realize that if I don't elaborate, he'll just badger me. I smile internally at that thought and resume. "He got what he wanted and pretty much ended it the week after I'd finally given in."

"Ouch. That must have been hurtful."

I shrug, thinking more about the fact that my first sexual experiences were taught by an asshole. "Needless to say, I didn't have a great introduction to sex."

"How many have there been?"

"I'm taking that as an earned question." I joke, his smile telling me he'll allow it. "Five."

"Five? That's it?" He repeats, his eyes wide. I just nod in confirmation. "And none of them could satisfy you sexually." He states, no question needed as we'd already had this conversation for the most part, in the pool that first night.

I shake my head no. "I had no idea what I was doing in the beginning, my mother obviously not the one to go to for any sort of sexual education. I was too mortified to go to Emmett, so I relied on books and stuff. Let me tell you, what they write about is very far off from what actually happens. So, the first guy-"

"Name?" He interrupts.

"Matt. He did what he did, you know? I had no clue about what was good and what wasn't. He told me it wasn't good for girls the first time and all that, but he never really tried. Being young and naïve, I had no thought that I should try to get what I wanted out of it. I didn't have an orgasm until boyfriend two." He's about to open his mouth when I clarify. "One that wasn't self generated." I grin. "When he ended it, I wasn't very upset. I didn't love him."

"And boyfriend two? What was he like?"

"Steve was nice but boring. It was during my senior year of college and he was an economics major. It was really never going to go anywhere; he wanted a nice, soccer mom type of girl to mold into a wife, which I obviously, was never going to acquiesce to. I wasn't ready to have my life planned out at twenty-two anyway, so I just went along with the relationship, with no real feelings on my end, and it died out naturally after a few months."

"The same issue with sex?"

I shoot him a 'really?' look, but answer anyway. "The sex was the same as him. Nice, boring."

"You never felt like you could tell him what you wanted either?" He shifts down, so that his cheek is on the pillow like mine.

"No. Nice girls didn't do that, and straight laced boys don't want to hear it."

"I see. Continue."

I recall boyfriends three and four, both similar to the nice guys and vanilla sex pattern I'd come to know.

"And the last one?"

I hesitate, because this is one of the people he might run into. Things with Jake and I were really good, I had thought. It was the longest relationship I'd had, clocking in at eight months.

"Jake and I bought my house together."

I see the surprise in Manchu's eyes, and the myriad of questions beneath.

I sigh, and roll on my back, cutting off visual contact. "Jake was the first guy I ever really tried to make it work with. I knew boyfriend one and two weren't going to go anywhere, so the effort on my part was non-existent, which is perhaps _why_ they ended up not working out, looking back."

Manchu starts playing with a lock of my hair that's near his hand, his fingers bending the strands into loops and releasing them repetitively. "Things were like they should be when you're in an adult relationship. He was smart, funny, and treated me well, everything you should want, right? The next logical step was to make it permanent, so we talked about moving in together. We went back and forth about me moving into his apartment, before we finally decided it made more sense to buy a house."

"It sounds like he wanted to make the same commitment. What went wrong?"

"The week of the closing, he called me on my cell in the middle of class to tell me that he'd changed his mind, and that he didn't want to buy the house. I assumed he had cold feet about the actual house, but he really had cold feet about me."

Manchu rubs his hand over mine, which has twisted up the sheet covering our legs. "I'm so sorry he did that to you. He's obviously completely stupid."

I laugh harshly, trying to banish my self-loathing of the memory that's invaded our space. "The first time I really tried, really made an effort to make a life with someone, it blew up in my face. I thought we were on the same page. He was the first one I'd ever tried to give my heart to, and he refused it."

I hesitate with the next statement; a lingering fear of what else might've gone wrong resurfacing. "I can't help but wonder if our mediocre sex life didn't play a part. The sex life I couldn't deliver." I roll back over to face him, letting his hand linger on mine between us.

"Why on earth would you think that?"

"Five sexually mediocre relationships, five failed relationships." I shrug, the doubt in myself returning full force from when Jake backed out. "The one with Jake, especially."

"Did he say as much to you?" He asks, his temper showing. I just shake my head in answer, wordlessly.

"Oh, Half Pint, it's not you. If the man couldn't see what's burning inside of you, well then, he wasn't looking very closely. I saw it in you the moment you accused me of stealing your coffee."

Tears start to threaten in my eyes at his words, emotions swirling high in my body.

"For you to think for one moment that you are not the most incredibly sexual creature on this planet kills me. Sex with you practically puts me in a coma. Every time."

His lopsided grin makes me laugh, until he continues, a seriousness taking over his features. "Please don't question your ability to have a strong, loving relationship, one that's worthy of you. Don't question your ability to be loved and to give your heart away."

His eyes burn into mine, pleading, trying to get me to see. "I hope you see you hadn't found the right guy to give it to."

* * *

I'm awoken sometime in the middle of the night to soft kisses being pressed to my forehead, my eyes, my cheeks, and landing gently on my mouth. Without opening my eyes, I return the kiss, a languid dance of lips and tongues.

Loving touches grace my body, over the clothing I'm still wearing, his hands in no hurry to undress me and take what they want. I instinctively move my body closer to his, his warmth inviting me in.

The rustle of sheets signifies movement, and in the darkness I feel Manchu's leg crossing over mine, trapping me beneath him, the slow kiss never breaking. My hands move to trail up the shirt on his back, reaching his shoulders and heading back down, while his hand circles my ribcage, his thumb nudging the underside of my braless breast.

I feel him start to harden against me, but he doesn't thrust or grind, just moves lazily over me, our bodies flush and unwilling to part. My hand goes to his hair, and I run my fingers through the silky, messy locks, a hum of satisfaction rewarding me, a hum that sends shivers down my body. His mouth breaks from mine but doesn't leave, instead trailing passionate kisses along my face until he nestles into my neck, licking and nuzzling. The hand not entangled with his hair moves under the short sleeve of his shirt, tracing patterns of ink I can't physically see but have burned into my memory. A snake slithering around a dagger, the name 'Margaret' in heavy black script, surrounded by a cluster of Italian wording. All outlined under my fingertips like they've been raised, begging me to play them to hear the song they create.

Without a word, Manchu moves his hand from me to the back of his shirt, and pulls it off in one swift movement, letting it fall elsewhere on the bed. I want to feel him against me, and he leans back as I discard mine in much the same way.

It's like we're magnets, the pull to each other too strong to fight, and our bodies press together, naked flesh to naked flesh. He's paid no attention to my nipples with his mouth or hands, but they ache anyway, the hair on his chest scratching and rough against them.

I make the motion of pulling on his body, like I could physically lift him up higher on me, and he understands, his covered erection settling into my open thighs, the heat through our clothing making us moan in unison as he gently moves his body over mine like a caress.

Our mouths find each other again in the dark, the lights from the pool through the window being the only illumination. Our lips don't need sight to meet perfectly, landing time and time again in kisses heated and tender at the same time.

After rocking against each other in a torturous slow dance, I feel Manchu's hand at the waistband of my leggings, tugging softly so that I arch my body, raising my backside so he can pull them down and off. His fingers trail back up my leg, the touch barely a whisper against my skin, until he lands on my panties, slightly damp from the sensual foreplay.

He rubs the outside of my entrance through the lace, and my hips follow his movement, never allowing his hand to part from my heated flesh. The pull of the fabric down my legs is gentle, unhurried, and when I feel his hips press into me again, I let out a moan into the quiet room.

"I need to be inside you." Manchu whispers into my mouth, returning his kiss as soon as the words are out. I answer with a moan of my own, and help him pull his pants down, joining mine somewhere under the sheets. He's forgone underwear, and his cock meets my pussy immediately, the rubbing from before continuing with no barriers.

I spread my legs farther, inviting him to enter me, and just as he's about to, he grabs my hands in his, entwining our fingers and laying them on the pillow on either side of my head.

He moves in slowly, his tongue entering my mouth at the same pace, until we're as joined as two people can be. He doesn't move, his erection filling me and I still my hips in response.

I feel him pull his face away from mine, so I open my eyes slowly, the light from the pool dancing over his face. What I see scares me, but what scares me more is the thought that perhaps I'm looking at him the same way. He presses his forehead to mine and begins to move, slowly in and out of me, his hands never leaving mine.

I open my legs even farther, pulling my knees up higher, trying to get him impossibly closer. His hips swirl and pulse, his body making love to me while his eyes challenge me to deny it. I touch my lips to his, breaking our intense gaze, and our kiss quickly becomes heated. His arms stretch mine so that they're high up on the pillows, a scenario not unlike the night he 'forced' me, but completely different in it's intent.

While he keeps one hand tangled with mine, his other breaks free and takes a slow journey down my body; down the arm covered in flowers, down the side of my torso covered in branches, his big hand so delicate in its admiration. He continues down my thigh until he grips the back of my knee, pulling it towards him as he rolls onto his side, before trailing his hand to my lower back and pulling me in closer. My hand leaves his on the pillow and slides down between us, curling itself around his neck, the other following suit, thumbs against his skin while fingers are splayed in his hair

We move this way, in symmetry, until I feel myself starting to tighten, the tingling in my body the most intense I've ever felt. His mouth leaves me, his eyes once again searching mine, and when I see the passion in him, when I see the unmistakable love, I come around him powerfully, my body encouraging his. He follows right behind, mashing our hips together and remaining between my legs, riding his orgasm out before letting his head fall close to mine.

"Lascia che ti amo bella" falls from his lips like a prayer.

Once the initial waves of euphoria have receded, and before any more words can be spoken, I excuse myself and extricate my body from his. I quickly make my way to the bathroom where I sit on the edge of the tub and wonder about what the fuck just happened.

* * *

I think it's the realization that I just had the single most satisfying sexual encounter of my life, with no circus tricks or acts of debauchery, that makes me stay awake long after Manchu breathes softly in his sleep beside me.

How one person could give me everything I've been searching for in the most un-deviant of ways makes my head spin; years of thinking I needed more than just missionary sex to make me feel alive were just smashed to bits.

What Manchu said earlier ricochets through my brain, the statement that I hadn't found the right guy to give my heart to.

The right guy…_until him_. That was the unspoken end of that sentence.

* * *

**_* Let me love you, beautiful._**

* * *

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**From the planetblue Archive of Awesome Fic List:**

**Faking It by spanglemaker9**

Half of Hollywood's most famous couples are faking it. That's how Bella Swan's publicist convinces her to pretend to date troubled Hollywood bad boy Edward Cullen. And she'll do anything for her band and her music.

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	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

I wake to inhuman sounds coming from the end of the bed.

I try to move my legs to sit up but they're pinned to the mattress, the weight on top heavy but moving. I crane my neck only to see Roscoe, snoring and splayed on his back across my feet. How he got up here, I'll never know. He's not exactly agile.

I sigh and rest my head back against the pillow, and begin to shimmy my legs out from under him. My moving causes the sheet to pull across a still sleeping Manchu, exposing the planes of his muscular back and I watch as the tattoos adorning his shoulders shift as he rolls onto his side to look at me.

I wonder if he'll be angry to see me still here; I know he asked me to spend the night, but perhaps he was expecting me to be gone by the time he woke up. My anxiety lessens as he unleashes the most glorious, sexy, lazy morning smile. His eyes close again and I watch his hand slide over his bare chest, rubbing the hair before sliding down to copy the motion on his tight stomach. I look back up to find him watching me observe his movements, a knowing grin on his face.

"Hi." He says, morning voice gravelly and erotic.

"Hi. Don't you have to work this morning?"

He bends his neck to look at his clock, and curses. "Sorry, yeah I have to get going. Slept in a little too late." He slides his body over to me and grabs me around my waist, pulling me towards him. Our bodies meet in the middle of the bed, and I feel the heat emanating from him throughout my own. He nuzzles his head into my hair and sighs. "I could stay here all day."

The thought thrills me and terrifies me, staying in bed all day with Manchu would be nothing but satisfying. The other side of me, though, knows it'll just add more unnecessary attachment. My hand goes to his neck and ruffles his messy hair with fingers that long to spend the day.

With a kiss to my collarbone, he slides out of bed and I watch as his superb naked body makes its way to the shower. He quirks an eyebrow at me when he catches me ogling him yet again, and smiles as he disappears behind the glass doors. I lie in bed with Roscoe for a minute, rubbing his belly.

Getting up, I gather my clothes and stand, wondering if I should just go, or if he'd want me to wait so we could walk out together. I'm still standing in place when the shower turns off and a wet Manchu reappears, grabbing for a towel. His slick body is perfection, and he stands splendidly unashamed of his nakedness as he rubs the towel over his hair, causing it to stand in multiple directions.

"I'll just be going." I say and motion towards the door with the shoes I'm holding in my hand.

"Give me five minutes, I'll walk out with you." I sit back on the bed and Roscoe puts his big face on my lap. At least I know this animal likes me. I smile at the dog and resume my petting, while watching Manchu finish getting ready.

A quick attempt at styling his hair and one trip into the closet later, Manchu, dressed in one of his navy suits, walks behind me down the staircase. After letting Roscoe out in the backyard and feeding him his breakfast, we head out towards our cars when my phone rings in my back pocket. Pulling it out, I see it's Alice and answer her call.

"Hey Alice, good morning." I say, my voice apparently way too chipper.

"What's gotten into you?" She laughs, knowing I'm not really very cheery this early, especially in my lazy days of summer.

"Nothing, can't I just be happy to hear from you?" I reach my car and see that Manchu is standing next to me, I guess waiting to say goodbye. I wave at him and he just rolls a finger at me, telling me to continue my call. "What's up, Alice?"

"We're going to take Timmy out in public today. Dr. O'Malley cleared him to mingle with the germs so he wants to go to "Mafioza's" for pizza. Want to join us around one?"

"Mafioza's at one. I'll see you there." I see Manchu's eyes light up at the sound of Mafioza's and end my call.

"I haven't been to Mafioza's since I moved back in the area. Rose and I used to love that place." He says, and I can practically hear the drool forming in his mouth.

"Yeah, it's Timmy's favorite. I guess your partner cleared him for takeoff today." I hesitate a beat, getting the idea that maybe he'd like to be invited. Debating what to do, I watch his eyes as they watch mine, and before I realize it, the question is leaving my lips. "Did you want to come?"

"Do you want me to?" He asks back, his question challenging.

"Um, sure. You seem to be salivating at the mere thought, how could I deny you that?"

He takes the key from my hand and opens my door for me, waiting until I've settled inside before leaning in and kissing me sweetly on the lips. "See you at one."

* * *

The restaurant isn't too crowded for a Friday at lunchtime, but Alice asks to be seated at a corner table farther away from where most of the diners are. I tell her that we need a table for six and before she can ask why, she looks past me with surprise and then happiness on her face.

"Edward! It's so nice to see you!" Alice greets him. "I didn't know you'd be joining us today." She gives me a sharp look and I point out I was just about to tell her.

"I hope I'm not interrupting the celebration. Izzy told me the news that Dr. O'Malley cleared Timmy today." Edward crouches down to say hello to the twins that are on either side of their mother's legs.

"Don't be silly! Of course not." Alice tells the hostess we'll be six and I watch Timmy and Tommy hold out their Hot Wheels cars for him to see, the experience Manchu has with children shining through.

He straightens up after a moment and we proceed to follow the waitress to the table. After we're settled with couples next to each other and a child on each end, I cringe when Alice starts her questions.

"So, the wedding, now lunch. When else have you seen each other n-o-n s-e-x-u-a-l-l-y that you've failed to tell me about, Iz?" She looks like the cat that ate the canary and if her children weren't present I'd give her an earful.

Jasper saves the day when he smiles at her and tells her to mind her own business, which she thankfully does. I know I'll be getting a call later, however. Manchu just laughs beside me.

Lunch is going smoothly as we dig into two large pizzas; Manchu and I are having a good time together. It's hard not to feel like we're a couple when you're dining with another one. Jasper and Manchu talk about medicine, of course, as Jasper will be starting a rotation at Vanderbilt come September.

It feels easy, being here with him in a casual setting. It would be simple to imagine more outings such as this, with friends or just us, but in the back of my mind I know I'm heading into dangerous territory. Someone I knew for eight months burned me, and here I've known Manchu for barely three.

Timmy and Tommy amuse themselves for the most part and behave, until they get restless and Tommy starts throwing crayons at Timmy from across the expanse of the table.

That signals the end of lunch and when the check arrives, Manchu insists on paying.

"No, Edward, really. That's unnecessary. I have a whole brood here." Jasper laughs as he pulls out his wallet.

Manchu holds the check folder closer to him. "I would really be honored if you'd let me. It's not often I'm blessed with the opportunity to do so with…them." He says as he nods in Timmy's direction.

I see Alice's eyes start to water and she puts a hand on Timmy's head, rubbing his gold curls. Understanding what he's implying, she simply says thank you and lets him give his credit card to the waitress.

I stare at Manchu; my stomach performing acrobatics while my heart causes my hand to intertwine with his on the table. He looks down at where I'm touching him, and I see him smile as his fingers tighten around mine.

* * *

The time spent with Manchu during the next two weeks not only increases, but also changes. A fact I notice but don't comment on. My worry about getting too close being pushed to the depths of my mind where common sense doesn't seem to reside.

There's a bond developing between us, an unspoken sensation that perhaps we mean more to each other than what this agreement stemmed from. Our time is spent getting to know one another instead of just enjoying our bodies, an element that seems to have snuck up on both of us.

The per functionary conversations we would have before and after sex morph into talking over glasses of wine by the pool. Frantic fucking whenever we get a moment turn into bike rides at dusk, my arms embracing his body as he guides us through the Nashville streets.

There's a comfort to be found like this, like perhaps you've met someone that can be the other half of you; the good and the bad of whatever it is you are.

The person that tells you when you look beautiful, and points out when your shirt is incorrectly buttoned before you leave to meet Rose and Emmett for dinner. The person that understands the fear you have of spiders and makes sure they take care of them before settling into your bed for the night. The person that doesn't like mussels but knows you do, so they get ordered at dinner with Carlisle and Mimi.

And yet, when I return at night to a house that shouldn't exist and to boxes that I refuse to unpack, the comfort I speak of feels more like a fantasy, and the bond I describe as developing feels more like it's teasing.

* * *

Manchu's breath on my stomach is hot, the air escaping his lungs like he's run a marathon. My chest heaves in time with his breath, raising his head up and down on top of me. For a fleeting moment, I'm glad his face isn't near mine, that I have a respite from the power his stare and affection hold over me.

The air in the room is chilly, the central air working overtime to cool the atmosphere and the bodies lying within. Summer has hit full force, and you can't go outside without feeling like you need another shower. Even the pool is almost too warm to feel pleasant.

The sheets slide farther off my body with his departure, and I watch as he lazily makes his way to the bathroom, the muscles under his slick skin moving in time with his steps.

I close my eyes, not replacing the damp sheet over myself, and try to calm my beating heart and overheated body. As it usually does, the feeling of wanting to flee starts to creep in, and I have a harder time tamping it down, as I have been the past two weeks.

There have been no words of love, no declarations, but they're there. In every look, in every touch, in every passage of time between us. Underneath it all.

I'm shaken from my musings by a playful Manchu jumping on the bed and over me, his still naked form gloriously trapping mine in a tangle of limbs.

"It's too hot!" I laugh as his legs gather themselves around me.

"It's your own fault. You're irresistible." I feel him place a kiss to my breast, my nipple reacting automatically. He stills after a few moments, his lips lingering lightly on my skin, not moving.

"What are your plans for the rest of the summer?" He asks, his voice muffled from pressing on my body.

"Nothing. That's what's great about teaching." I smile, thinking of one of the many pleasures such a career has to offer. "I'll keep bartending though. Why?"

"I'm thinking of going to Italy soon. For two weeks."

I pause, not sure how I feel about that. Two weeks without Manchu has my nerve endings standing at attention. My eyes dart back and forth over the ceiling, my mind going in many directions at once. Loneliness and loss battle relief and what my brain tells me might be a good thing. "What about your patients?"

"There's another pediatric oncologist affiliated with the hospital. We cover each other from time to time."

"Oh."

Silence envelops us, the whir of the air starting up is the only sound in the suddenly stale room. Manchu's hand rubs lazy circles over my tattooed-covered side, and it lulls me and gets me out of my own head.

Manchu clearing his throat cuts through the quiet. "I can't wait to see my family, my grandparents. It's been way too long. I've had four cousins have babies in the last two years alone. It'll be nice to see them."

I nod, and murmur how nice it sounds, having a family so big. My hand rubs over his head, my fingers stroking languidly at his unruly hair.

"Would you like to come with me? I'd really love for you to finally meet the rest of my family."

Any daze his magic hands put me in evaporates, my eyes snapping open to land on his head, which is still pressed against my chest. I can't help the rapid breathing that his comment has stirred; my heart feeling like it's about to pound right out of my chest. Before I can answer in any way, he continues quickly.

"Don't answer now. Think about it." My eyes clench at his words, self-directed anger rising with the fact that the tone of his voice has to be so quick to reassure and placate my fears.

His arms tighten around me, and I do the only thing I can think of at that moment of being put on the spot, I tell him I'll think about it.

* * *

I'd like to say it's the heat of the house, of the air not allowing me to get comfortable with a body pressed against me that makes me sneak out of his house in the middle of the night like a bad dog with its tail between its legs.

I'd really, really like to.

* * *

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**From the planetblue Archive of Awesome Fic List:**

**Over The Top by starfish422**

Slash: Edward is an unabashed pleasure-seeker, one of the club kings of the Seattle gay community. One night at his favorite club, he meets an enigmatic man who rocks the world he has created. Explicit sexuality/language/mature themes.

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	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

I couldn't sleep once I returned home, my body fatigued but my mind unable to stop moving. Guilt for leaving, panic at his request for me to meet his family in Italy, all compounded into weariness. Being Friday, I know I'm setting myself up for exhaustion considering my long night ahead.

I wonder what he'll be thinking when he wakes to an empty bed, how long until he notices the lack of heat lying beside him. Just as staying was once new but now expected, the novelty of me leaving is going to have some repercussions. Whether it's the source of a fight or will be quietly accepted remains to be seen.

Part of me wants nothing more than to say yes. My heart thrills at the notion of agreeing to everything a trip like that implies, throwing all of my caution to the wind. Images of hand holding while strolling through the vineyards his family owns, feeding each other cheese and grapes while lounging on a hillside, all play out like a movie in my head. Making love under an Italian moon would definitely be a highlight in my life.

The other part of me says I'd only be setting myself up for failure. My heart clenches and breaks at the thought of that kind of failure, the kind I don't know that I'd recover from this time. I've never felt so emotionally attached to someone like this before, and could easily see myself unable to apply the brakes before getting hurt. And meeting this family he loves so much? A family I could get attached to? The fear rips through me, followed quickly by my own self-loathing.

I replay the doubts I've been having over in my head. The reality is I've had the end of a longer, committed relationship blindside me. I've really only known Manchu for less than half of the time of that relationship, which calls for even less certainty than I thought I had with Jake.

I'm a logical person; I realize that not everything has to end in ambivalence or heartache. My flaw lies in my long-standing belief that I will end up alone. It's a comfortable, albeit flimsy, protective cover guarding against it from happening at the mercy of someone else.

But humans as a whole are not always able to take these flaws we discover about ourselves and change them.

I decide that today is the day I'm going to learn how to make coffee, and set about opening the box Emmett gave me as a house-warming gift. I don't seem to have any filters so I contemplate using paper towels until there's a sharp knock on my door.

I still, paper towel roll in hand, and consider pretending I'm not home.

Blowing my bangs from my eyes and quickly deciding I'm an immature idiot, I walk to the door to find Manchu in all of his Friday suit glory, holding two coffees, one of which he holds out towards me.

"Hey."

"Hey." He stands waiting for me to invite him in, and hands me my cup as he walks past me into the living room.

"Mimi mentioned you hadn't made it in, I figured you were in need of your fix." His expression is blank, I can't read him, and so I focus on the hint of a mustache that's beginning to grow on his face as a divergence tactic.

Realizing I can't stare at his facial hair all day, I turn to walk to the kitchen, Manchu close behind. "Yes, well I thought it was time I put this to use, Emmett gave me this coffee maker when I moved in so…" I trail off and run my hand across the top of the machine for something to do.

"You left." He pulls a stool out and sits, taking a sip of his drink.

I look at him and cross my arms, nodding. "Are you angry?"

"I'm not angry at all." I try to determine if he's telling the truth, but his face is still quite cold and impersonal.

"Oh."

"Did you think I would be? Is that why you didn't come into the coffee shop?"

If I'm having trouble admitting to myself I'm a coward, I'm certainly not going to admit it to him. "I told you, I needed to use-"

"Yes, the coffee maker." He pauses and narrows his eyes. "I guess this is a coincidence, this sudden need to use appliances."

"Coincidence?" I question.

"Yes. I suppose your sudden interest in home-brewed coffee has nothing to do with the fact that you're avoiding me and a question I asked last night."

My answer to his accusation is immediate. "You told me not to answer, to think about it."

"And I meant it. It's a big question. I guess I didn't expect you to run off at the mere thought." He lowers his voice, which had been steadily rising, and strokes his hand over his new mustache. "Well, I'm glad to see that you've finally decided to start making yourself permanent. Here, at least." He says, nodding toward the empty coffee maker box with a sneer.

I look at him sharply, not appreciative of his sudden tone. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"You think just because you're the only one with a degree in human behavior that I don't understand what's going on?"

"I guess you need to explain it to me." My voice is sharp, tense.

Manchu gets up and points around the room, at the few boxes left in the kitchen. "You have obvious issues with tying yourself down. You've opened up a bit about it, but these boxes say more than you ever could."

"No, they don't. They're just boxes. I'm lazy." I look at the items in question that surround us, angry that he's quite possibly hit a nerve.

"Lazy. Is that how you describe your reluctance towards trying to have a relationship? I thought things were moving along nicely." He puts his cup down and crosses his arms across his chest. "It's time to discuss this, Izzy."

"You've never even brought this up as a discussion, it's not like I'm avoiding a conversation about it! This is the first time it's come up!" I point out, mad that this man is trying to psychoanalyze me.

He seems ready for a fight, his body straightening to stand tall in an offensive move. "Tell me, Izzy, the first boyfriend, the one that dumped you after you slept with him. He made you feel like he didn't want you, correct?"

"Whatever, Edward. Don't make this about me. You're the one changing this arrangement with a trip to meet your family! Across continents!"

"But it is about you, Isabella. All of it." He waves his arm around, gesturing at nothing in particular. "Boyfriend two never really had a chance, right? I mean, you both knew he'd dump you for someone that fit in with what he wanted, so neither of you labored seriously at making it work. Same for the next two."

"You don't know anything. Don't try to pick apart what's gone wrong in my relationships."

"The last one, boyfriend five. You say you gave him your heart, but he rejected you. But did you really, Izzy? Did he really pull the rug out from under you?"

"Just shut up."

His eyes soften and he comes back to where I'm standing rigid. His hand moves to touch me but my flinching away causes him to rest it on the island. I remain quiet, passing my latte back and forth between my hands on the counter, making a shuffling noise with the cardboard.

"All of these losers left you feeling unwanted, and believing that it was you that was flawed. They've made you scared to even believe you could have something great, that maybe one day, you'll find the right one."

My hackles rise, the fact that the Italy question has morphed into a relationship conversation, a dissection of my history, burns through me. "I don't know what you want from me, Edward. I told you from the beginning that I was not interested in having a serious relationship. I'm not sure why you think you'd be the exception to the rule. There's nothing to discuss." As I say it, I cringe internally at how blunt that came out.

His voice takes on a husky but menacing quality. "Sexually, we're on fire. No one fucks like us. When we're together physically, it's like nothing I've ever experienced before."

He moves closer, the anger and frustration emanating off of him. "You can't deny what's happening between us, Half Pint, as much as you may want to." His breath makes me shiver, the feeling of closeness that's been growing between us plays over me, while the panic that seems to go hand in hand with the euphoria transforms me into one, deep, ball of fear.

"I could give you so much more. I could give you everything."

Promises uttered to me before, plans of lives spent together in this house being smashed flit through my head. Memories of Jake calling to tell me he didn't want me after all unfairly dance before my eyes.

My skin prickles under my cotton shirt, the back of my neck growing damp. I can't do it; I can't put myself in a position like that again. One of hurt and rejection. The rejection this time would be different. I'd know I was losing the greatest thing that would ever happen to me. I can't let myself be tricked into falling deeper, only to find I can't recover.

There'd be no going back after I gave my heart to Manchu.

I open my mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. I try again, but words fail me and I feel the air between us growing strained. I will myself to tell him my fears, my doubts, hoping he'd understand. Praying he'd give me a chance to explain.

He waits, a few minutes turn into several, before he pulls away from me and grabs his cup. Taking a step towards the door, he turns back to face me, his eyes brooding, their green fire from before doused by what I can only describe as acceptance.

"We started in a particular way, you and I." His voice drawls slowly, like molasses ebbing across a countertop. "You want to go back to that? Done. Only sex, Izzy."

I feel the sting behind my eyes but it's not enough to make me tell him to stop.

"Until I get bored."

He leaves me there in my kitchen, amidst the unpacked boxes and the failure that they represent, feeling like he just ripped a part of me out.

* * *

I've been holding my phone in my hand for two days, wanting to call Manchu but unable to face what could possibly be an unwanted phone call on his part.

I could've handled it better. I could've explained that he'd hit a nerve with the boxes and ex-boyfriends, but without time to think things through on my own, I couldn't make heads or tails out of our discussion about my issues. I couldn't just start to hash them out with him right then and there.

Everything he said is true. I'm scared. I'm scared to be hurt again and to be discarded. His telling me he could give me 'more' didn't mean I could just jump in with both feet. I've been burned, and I'm cautious. He didn't give me a chance to breathe or think.

Perhaps the mistake I made was thinking that I was capable of having a sexual relationship without feelings, but when I decided to jump into this, my intention was to at least find out if my relationships went sour because of sex or because of me. Now I knew.

It was me.

He deserves better than a girl that's afraid to try to make anything work. A girl so afraid of being hurt that she unconsciously keeps her house boxed up because deep down inside, that last rejection hurt more than she admits. Not hurt by the person involved, but hurt by being spurned when she'd really thought she'd finally tried her hardest.

The fact that he was able to turn things between us to what they had been from the start so quickly, so definitively, reinforces my thoughts that maybe I was right to not try.

It's possible anger made him seem so aloof. You can't just go from 'hey, we're sex buddies' to 'hey, I want you to come to Italy to meet my family' without any feeling involved, could you?

As bad and tense as those ten minutes were, what would I have done if he'd made some sort of formal declaration? That would've made it a thousand times worse.

I consider pouring myself a huge drink; the headache I'm working on grows bigger with each thought I have. Perhaps self-medication is in order. Lord knows self-analysis is never an easy thing.

I continue beating myself up while I pour some vodka into a shaker, his words about my ex-boyfriends certainly struck a nerve. I didn't need to have a degree in sociology to see truth in his observances.

Subconsciously, I guess what I was really doing was preventing myself from trying something real again. I'm my own obstacle, and probably always have been.

The mistake I made the other morning was that I should've said something, _anything_ rather than let him leave.

How do you tell a man that has turned your world upside down and made you understand that sex isn't about the where or the what but the who, that you're afraid to let him in because he may hurt you?

I begin talking out loud to an empty room.

'_Hey, Manchu, the closeness we've achieved during sex has really blown my mind, but I'm going to forgo the opportunity to explore that further in case you decide to leave me.'_

I pick up the metal tumbler and shake the hell out of its contents.

'_And what you said about my ex-boyfriends struck a nerve but I don't care to explore that any further either to see if maybe I should do something about it. Mainly because I am afraid to confirm that I am, in fact, the issue.'_

I laugh out loud, my attempt at self-discovery progressively verging into self-loathing.

'_Oh and to make matters worse, I've fallen completely and hopelessly in love with you.'_

I inhale sharply, my hand flying to my mouth to muffle a gasp.

I put the shaker down haphazardly, completely missing the counter, and feel the liquid slosh over my bare foot.

The phone starts beeping on the island, signaling a text, and I allow the distraction to stop me from delving into what I just alarmingly admitted to myself from pin balling around my brain.

Seeing the message is from Manchu, my heart quickens.

I put the phone face down, not wanting to read.

I pick the phone up but don't highlight the text, avoiding the inevitable.

Finally, I decide to get it over with and press the text icon.

_Meet me on Music Row, outside of the Bluebird, 8:30_

* * *

Standing outside the famed venue at eight-thirty sharp, I pinch the bottom of my skirt between my fingers nervously, wondering what this is about. If he's going to tell me he's done, he could've just texted it. It's what I deserve.

I feel him approach before I see him, the air changing around me and charging with electricity. His hands land on my waist from behind, and he pulls me against him quickly before guiding us to walk, still holding my hips and following directly behind.

Three storefronts down, he pushes me into a tiny alleyway and spins me so that my back is against the cool brick. I barely have time to voice my surprise before his mouth is on mine, rough and greedy. His hands are everywhere, touching my breasts before sliding down to drag over my hips; his fingers pressing and dancing in a million places at once, the feel of tiny sparks landing on my body in a random pattern.

My mouth matches his need, my tongue pushing it's way in to tangle and wrestle. My hands grabbing his shoulders and head, the ferociousness of his touch mirrored in mine.

I feel relieved to be with him and desperate to have him, hurried, like I can't touch enough of him before he vanishes. His body seems as frantic as mine, pressing me into the wall, as the brick scratches the backs of my arms.

His mouth breaks away and trails itself over my cheek, kissing his way to my ear.

"Look towards the street, Izzy."

I look to where he's directed me, his mouth sucking on my neck when I turn, only to find people walking past the opening of the alley, laughing, talking, going about their business while I'm being violated in the best possible way not five feet from them.

"You're about to get fucked in the busiest intersection in Nashville."

My eyes close and my head hits the wall, his words sending a rush through my entire body straight to my aching pussy.

His hands start moving to my thighs as his mouth continues its assault on my neck. I feel the nip of his teeth and he growls low, his muffled panting against me spurring on my own staccato breathing.

I can't grab him tightly enough, my hands flying over his bare biceps, trying to hold onto something, anything, trying to keep myself planted on Earth.

My panties are ripped from me, the force jerking my back off the wall until his body slams me back, his mouth latching onto mine and taking my breath away. I feel his fingers at my opening, twirling in the wetness, the hotness, and he moans into me.

My frenzied eagerness makes my hands fly to his pants, unbuttoning and clawing their way inside, anxious for the present wrapped within. His hips buck into me at the feel of my hand on him, and I start to stroke.

Peals of laughter from the street egg me on, making me feel dirty and wonton, and I stroke harder.

"Fuck, tell me what you want, Izzy." The hand not on my pussy is clutching my hair in the back, making a barrier between the cement wall and me.

"Fuck me."

"Where!" He demands.

"Here, in this alley, oh god, yeah." His fingers push into me forcefully, twisting and pumping, fucking me like I've pleaded. "Your cock, I want your cock."

My grasp on him tightens and I feel his shaft jerk at my touch. His hand leaves my pussy and hitches my leg up to his hip, before returning and pulling my own hand away from him. I feel him stroke himself between us, and then he fills me, swiftly and completely.

He stops moving, his body pressed tightly to mine, and turns his head to the side, to capture my mouth with his once more in a searing kiss. He starts rocking into me, his cock sliding in and out in delicious fashion.

The hand on the back of my head tightens on my hair and turns it, so that his forehead is pressed against my cheek watching himself fuck me as I watch the street. My eyes practically roll back in my head at the feeling of him taking me and of the sight of people walking by. Once or twice, someone glances into the alley, but I don't know if they see us. I find I don't care.

"Oh god, you're so tight around me, so fucking good." He grunts as his pounding increases, his hand ghosting over where we're joined, feeling us.

A man on the sidewalk pauses at the sound of Manchu's guttural sounds, and squints into the darkness.

"Oh god, he sees us." I say, and my pussy clenches around him, making him grind into me.

"Do you like that?" He asks, his mouth lifting from my neck, where he'd resumed his attack. I feel his fingers start to rub my clit, and I lift my other leg, knowing his body is pressed hard enough against me, pinning me to the wall so I won't slide to the ground.

His hand leaves my head and holds my leg behind my knee, helping it to stay in place while his thrusting increases.

"I want to feel." I say as I'm still looking out of the mouth of the alley with hooded eyes, and slide my hand down to where his is, so we're both feeling his cock slide in and out. The curious man has walked on, not alerting anyone to our antics, so people just keep passing by.

The depravity of the act, the darkness of the alley, the noise from the street and from our furious fucking overwhelms me and I come sharply, with zero warning. My hips are trying to slam against him, trying to sustain the intense waves when with a string of profanity, Manchu's hips pin mine to the wall and he comes and empties himself into me, his body shaking from the strain and effort.

With our chests still heaving, he pulls his body from mine and lowers my quivering legs to the concrete. He pulls my skirt down before moving to button himself, and kisses my bruised mouth tenderly.

"Are you ok?" He asks, his hand moving to smooth the hair on the back of my head where he had been pulling. The stroking lulls me, a warm feeling spreading throughout my body at his care.

"Yeah, better than." I smile at him, until my eyes go wide and I look back towards the alley. My fear of being seen is obvious to him, and his hands pull my head to him, pressing my face into his chest.

"It's all good, Izzy." I feel him place a kiss on my hair and step away, grabbing my hand and starting to walk towards the street. He pokes his head out quickly and pulls me behind him, walking casually like we weren't just fucking in an alley. I keep my head down, shielding people with my hair so I don't have to look up.

When asked, I direct him to where I parked, and he asks for my keys, opening the door and handing them back to me as I get in.

I roll down the window to talk, but all he says is "I'll see you soon", before giving me a half smile and walking back towards where we came.

I sit a minute, still on an orgasm high, until despair creeps in. The realization that he only called me Izzy during the whole thing.

Not Bella, and nary a beautiful Italian phrase spilled from his perfect lips.

Tears spring to my eyes, the loss of his warmth towards me cutting like a sharp blade. I've picked an awful time to come to my senses.

_I'm in love with him. _Spectacularly and without question.

And I'm utterly freaked the fuck out about the epic way I'm letting this fail, but feel hopeless against it.

* * *

I do nothing. I let the failure fester and bleed.

On Monday night, Manchu fucks me from behind while I'm spread out on the hood of his black BMW, in a deserted movie theater parking lot.

On Wednesday, we fuck in the restroom of the coffee shop, where he promptly leaves afterwards without getting his drink.

On Thursday, I fuck him on the chaise lounge located in the far corner of my small backyard, reverse cowgirl.

On Saturday, Manchu calls to tell me he's done.

* * *

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**From the planetblue Archive of Awesome Fic List: **

**Cullen, Unscripted by FictionFreak95**

When Edward Cullen scores an entry level internship as a writer for his distant Uncle's TV Station immediately following College, his life takes some crazy turns as he makes new friends and finds love. AH, BxE

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	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

Wallowing is never a pretty thing. Some people cry into vats of Ben & Jerry's, while others sit around morosely bitching to their stuffed animals. I've heard of instances where people never recover from their wallow, living life doomed forever under a black cloud of despair.

Every wallow is different.

My wallowing consists of taking apart my bike and getting grease stains all over myself. This is how I spend the late morning hours the day after I received Manchu's break up call; covered in oil and reeking heavily like an auto body shop.

As I'm taking out part of the engine to give it a thorough detailing, I can't help but play the conversation over in my head for the hundredth time. I'd like to say I was even a bit surprised, but I saw this coming. In true Izzy fashion, I did nothing to stop the careening death our 'relationship' had been teetering towards.

The week of illicit rendezvous' devoid of feeling after weeks of intimacy had been prickling at me. I knew they were a direct result of what I had done, or in this case, what I had not done, but I found myself unable to speak up about the growing feelings of rejection his actions were creating. Regardless of how it felt, for the last week I found myself wanting to keep as much of him with me as he'd allow. I had been holding on with one finger over a cliff.

"_Hi." _

"_Hi." I wait while I listen to him breathing, wondering why he didn't just text me if he wanted to meet somewhere, as this had become his MO._

"_I can't do this anymore, Izzy."_

"…"_  
_

"_I thought I could do this with you. The whole sex only thing, but I can't. I won't."_

"…"

"_Say something."_

"_I don't know what to say." I swallow and feel a prickling in my eyes, my heart starting to beat furiously in my chest.  
_

"_I mean Jesus, are you pissed? Upset? Happy? Give me something of yourself for Christ's sake." His words spit out at me, jumbled together in fury and fire._

"_Of course I'm upset about it, I..." Trailing off is the worst thing I can do, but I can't think._

_He doesn't answer right away, and I'm about to say more before he begins to speak. "So that's it?"_

_I sigh heavily into the phone, defeat getting the best of me. "I don't want it to be." But I don't know what else I can give you, you deserve more than me, I think to myself._

"_Well, what is it that you want then?" His voice pleads, urging me to step up and admit the things I'm afraid of._

"_I don't know." The disappointment in myself is mirrored in the whoosh of air that reverberates in my ear. _

"_I see." There's a noise over the phone line, a tight, strangled sound. "When you figure it out, I hope you find it. Goodbye, Isabella."_

_The connection ends. I touch the face of the phone, knowing that might be the last time I ever speak to him. In that moment, I'm happy that I never snapped his picture so I wouldn't gravitate towards it, etching the vision in my memory._

I get up from my crouched position on the driveway, hoping a stretch and crick of my neck will erase the lingering thoughts of yesterday. Out of sadness, I pick up my phone yet again. Whether I do so because I'm hoping for a missed call or text, or if I'm about to magically muster up the courage to dial him myself, I have no idea.

The phone rings in my hand, startling me, and my heart guiltily drops in disappointment when I see Timmy and Tommy smiling back at me.

I sigh heavily before speaking. "Hey Alice."

"Whoa, who shot your dog?" She asks, always quickly to the point.

"I don't own a dog, but I have a cat that would probably like to shoot _me_."

"Fender's just fussy. He loves the boys."

"Well, maybe you should take him, someone deserves to be happy around here."

"Yikes, what's up?"

"Manchu ended it." Saying the words brings on a fresh round of depression.

"Ended what? Did you officially start dating without telling me?" She practically screeches.

I explain the whole sordid story for her, leaving nothing out, not even the parts where I look bad.

"Oh, Iz. Why?" The imploring in her voice is for me, for my hurt. It's not an accusation, which I'm thankful for.

"I don't know, Alice. I'm just stupid."

"Hey, don't be dissing my bff, you got it? You're not stupid, you're just not thinking clearly."

"Sounds like the same thing to me." I kick my wrench and it makes a clattering sound as it skids along the cobblestone.

"I'm just upset that you're letting what happened with Jake rule the rest of your life."

"Oh my god, I don't care about Jake, at all."

"No, I know that. I meant what happened _with_ him. I know you're long past being into him."

I laugh, bitterly. "I don't think I was ever into him."

"Are you into Edward?"

"I like him." The words of admittance, of love and cupid's arrow finding me stay in my mouth.

Alice laughs contemptibly into the phone. "Like. Okay, right. Let me ask you a question. Is every waking moment you have consumed with the idea that you want to see him again?"

"Perhaps."

"Liar. Do you feel like the other half of you is there when you're with him?"

"At least a third."

"Liar. Would you let him kiss you with morning breath?"

"He has."

She pauses, her voice low with empathy. "Will you forever regret not spending every waking moment of your life with him?"

I choke back a sob, the sound wet and guttural in my throat. "Yes."

"You're in love, baby."

The past twenty-four hours come flooding over me like a tidal wave. "Fuck. I know. I really fucked this up, Alice. Like, seriously." I start to pace, tears probably smearing the dirt on my face. As I walk in a circle, my grief becomes panic that I've let something so wonderful crumble. All because of my inability to try.

"So, fix it."

"It can't be that simple. It can't be as simple as me calling to tell him I'm an idiot, can it?" I'm begging her to tell me it is.

"You never know until you try." _That_ word. Her voice softens. "I know giving your whole self to someone is a scary thing, Iz, but it can also be the best thing you ever do."

I think of Alice and Jasper, Angie and Ben, Emmett and Rose. Even Carlisle and Mimi. Handing their hearts over, with no guarantees, regardless of the length of time they've known each other. I want that. I want that with Manchu. "What if I'm too late?" My voice starts rising in fear. "What if he's really done with me?"

"What I don't understand is what you're doing still talking to me! Call him!" Alice barks and hangs up, her orders directly in place.

I stare at the phone, my hands shaking at the trepidation that I'm about to confess everything, that I'm about to throw myself at the mercy of someone that can ruin me with a simple no.

I'm in love with him. I want to be with him. I want to know him, to date him, to have him love me.

I start to laugh maniacally, giddy and nervous and downright crazy.

I pull up his number in my contacts and mentally encourage myself when I don't second-guess or hesitate to initiate the call.

I wait the torturous moment until the phone connects, only it doesn't ring. It goes directly to voicemail.

I frown at the phone, knowing that only means one thing.

His phone is off because he doesn't want to hear from me. I hang up without leaving a message and walk in another circle around my dismantled bike, trying to figure out what to do. It only takes me a moment to decide I have to go see him, in person.

I run into the house to clean my hands in the kitchen sink, memories of him telling me the correct way to scrub up making me smile as I wash the grease from my nails.

I glance down quickly at my outfit, black tank top and my favorite ripped, barely-there camo shorts. A few grease stains splotch the shorts and my legs, but nothing worth wasting time to change for. I dash towards the door, grabbing my keys and purse quickly before jumping into my car, hoping for the possibility that he still wants me.

* * *

I careen around the corner of Manchu's block, not able to get there fast enough. Pulling into the driveway, I see an unfamiliar Mercedes, but his BMW is there and I breathe a sigh of relief.

I take a quick look at my reflection in the mirror and freak when I see a nice grease stain dotting my forehead. I wipe at it with my hand, which only smears it more. I look around the car to see if I have a bottle of water or something, but come up empty. Fuck it. If he wants me, he wants my dirt.

I bound out of the car and rub my shaky hands nervously down my clothes, straightening myself as much as possible. The adrenaline is coursing through me, causing that feeling you get when the pressure in your ear changes for no reason.

I take three deep breaths, and depress the doorbell, hearing the chimes ring behind the big oak doors. Roscoe lets out a bark or two, my heart beating faster the closer his doggie complaints get to me. The knob rattles on the other side, and it sweeps open, revealing Rose.

I'm a little surprised, but I had warning there was someone else here from the car I didn't recognize sitting in the driveway.

"Hey, Rose, how are you?" I ask, patiently trying not to barge in screaming Manchu's name over and over.

She eyes me somewhat coolly, which tells me that he's spoken with her about what's happened. "Hi Izzy. I'm fine. What's going on?"

"I'm looking for Man…Edward. I have something I need to tell him."

Her face changes slightly to pity, her head tilting just a bit like one does when they look at a sick puppy.

"He's not here. He left for Italy."

The pressure feeling in my ears grows rapidly and I ask her to repeat herself.

"He left. He changed his plane ticket last night. He's taking the…" she pauses to look at the gold watch on her wrist, "five-fifteen this afternoon. He left for the airport about an hour ago."

I look at my wrist only to remember that I don't wear a watch. "What time is it now?"

"It's a little before three."

All feeling leaves my body, and it's all I can do to not float to the ground like a feather blown from its nest.

Logically, I know he's not leaving the country for good. He's coming back. I tell myself what I have to say can wait.

But there's a whiff of doubt in my rational thought, a hint that I've blown it. The clarity that had taken over, the willingness to tell him I love him has resulted in zero, because once again, I stood in my own goddamned way.

"What happened?" Rose asks softly, her features focusing on what can only be my distraught face.

"Oh Rose, I really, really blew it. He's exceptional. He's the best thing that ever happened to me and he wanted to share my life. Even if it was just for now, just for a while that he wanted to love me, I finally got my dumb brain together to tell him he had me. Only I'm too late."

"Did you try to call him?"

"I did. His phone is off. Now I know it's because he's in the airport and I can't leave this in a message. It's too big."

I see Rose reach out her hand to me, her fingers soothing the flowers and vines she finds there. "He'll be back. Two weeks. He'll want to hear from you."

"You think?" My eyes start to tear, and she wraps her arms around me in a hug. The gesture is peaceful and kind, and it makes me feel even worse for almost throwing away so callously the opportunity to have such wonderful people in my life.

"I do."

* * *

After leaving the Manchu-less house, I drive around aimlessly. I know I should go home to shower and get something in my stomach, but the thought of returning to that house with it's reminders of my failed love life seems really depressing. I don't even have a cat that would care to deal with me.

I decide to drive to Steel Horse, not caring about my appearance at all. The usual smells and sounds surround me as I enter through the back, the familiarity comforting and feeling much like Rose's hug. I bypass the office to say hello to Jackie, the daytime bartender, and take a stool.

We talk shop for a minute or two, and I convince her to do a shot with me. I can tell she wants to ask why I'm there on a Sunday afternoon looking like hell; instead she just leans on the bar, bottle between us.

One turns into four in rapid succession, and the story starts to spill. She listens to me spew, and has at some point alerted Emmett that I'm there. I start to cry when I see him round the edge of the bar, and he takes my sorry self into the office, leaving the bottle with Jackie despite my request.

He sits me on the couch and moves a stack of papers, settling himself next to me. He starts to rub my hair and make soothing sounds, like he did after dad died.

"What's the matter, Princess?"

"Oh, Emmett. I fucked up." I slur slightly, the crying and the booze mixing with his warm hands playing with my hair. "I pushed him away. Him! He's the one. I fucked it up all over the place."

He sighs, and mentions that Rose told him a little bit about what Edward had told her. I'm thankful the story seems to be accurate, the reason it ended the same, that I'm scared. I'm glad he didn't feel the need to emit words of venom at his sister about me.

I look at my big brother, his face swimming in my tears. "What's wrong with me Emmett?"

He chuckles at my wording. "Nothing is wrong with you, Iz."

"Yes, there is. Why am I so fucked up? Why can't I make anything work? Why can't I try?" I close my eyes, my hand covering them trying to calm the ache growing behind my closed lids.

"Look at me, Izzy." He turns my watery face to his and stares down at me.

"You're the strongest and most capable person I know."

I surreptitiously wipe my face on his shirt. "You're on crack."

His lips quiver, holding back a laugh, but he controls it and continues. "You've been strong your whole life. I actually don't know how you do it."

I blink rapidly at him, my mouth turning down into a frown.

"Izzy, where's the girl that practically raised herself after our father was killed? Where's the girl that survived our crazy mother?" Emmett takes his hand from around my back and starts ticking off his fingers.

"Besides surviving our unfortunate upbringing, you had the guts to move away to college, somewhere new where you knew no one. I couldn't even do that."

"You stayed for me, you could've done it."

He tilts his head and squints. "I don't know, Iz. It wasn't too hard to convince myself to stay." He continues counting with his fingers. "You also worked your ass off for not one, but two degrees." I nod my head, proud of that accomplishment.

"Biggest for me, you got through something really hard, the whole house debacle. You didn't have to buy it. You could've stayed with me, no one would've blamed you if you'd backed out of that house, but you decided to forge ahead. You're a force of nature. Your problem Izzy, is that you're _too_ strong, which leads to stubbornness."

I look at my big brother, soaking in his words. "You think I'm too stubborn?"

"Yes. It's very annoying. You won't let anyone take care of you out of fear it'll make you 'dependent' on them; which then leads to fear that they'll eventually hurt you if you do."

"Great. Now I'm annoying too." I huff and cross my arms over my chest, pouting at the truth of his statement.

"But there's hope for you." He nudges my shoulder with his meaty one, knocking me over. "You're sitting here admitting your mistake, which takes a lot of fucking guts."

His words mean so much to me, they always have. "You think I'm fixable?"

"I don't think there's really anything to fix, just recognize." He nods assuredly.

"Emmett, I have to wait two weeks. I can't tell him I fucked up and that I love him in a voicemail."

"When's his flight?"

"Rose said five-fifteen."

He looks over to the desk clock, and turns back to me. "Let's go to the airport."

"What? No! There's not enough time! And you're working…"

"I'll have Jackie keep an eye out. We have fifty-five minutes, Princess. Let's go get your man."

* * *

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**From the planetblue Archive of Awesome Fic List:**

**Breaking News by WriteOnTime**

Two network news anchors. One desk. In a race to get the story, love might become the headline - if they don't kill each other first. AU/AH Canon Couples, smart people, particle physics, and tap dancing.

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	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

Emmett drives like a maniac; which most days, isn't a welcome thing. Today it's perfect. His Harley sways and swerves between cars, horns blaring behind us as we cross lanes and make sharp turns.

After leaving his office in a frenzy, he insisted on taking the bike, arguing that we could get through any traffic snarls easier. Besides the fact that I'd been drinking, I was too nervous to drive myself and I was happy to have his moral support.

I notice we're not headed towards the airport and I panic when I see my neighborhood come into view. He can't hear me over the roar of the engine, so I hit his shoulder and point in the opposite direction. He ignores me until he pulls into my driveway and stops the bike with his feet.

"What the hell, Em! We're going to miss him!"

"If you don't grab your passport, you definitely will. You're not going to get past the ticket counter or security without your passport. And you'll have to buy a ticket."

"What? I don't want to buy a ticket!"

"You're going to have to. Just buy the cheapest one you see that's near his gate." He smiles goofy. "It's for love, isn't it?"

I turn immediately and run from him towards my front door, fumbling with my keys and pressing my shoulder against the wood like it'll budge under my weight. I finally open it and run up my stairs two at a time, towards my bedroom, where I make a beeline to the safe in my closet. I curse as I screw up the combination and force myself to take a deep breath. While I'm trying to get my shit together, I think again that perhaps I should change, but dismiss the extra time it would take.

The lock ultimately gives and I grab my passport, shoving it into my bag.

Emmett's putting his phone in his pocket when I return, and he shares the flight info he got from Rose. I smile gratefully as he hands me my helmet and revs the engine, barely waiting until I've strapped it on before screeching down the street.

I'm thankful I don't have a watch, as I'd be burning a hole in it. I can only hang on and hope that Emmett gets us there in time. It's a Sunday afternoon, which helps on the traffic front and technically the airport is only about twenty minutes away, but traffic in Nashville is on the heavy side most of the time.

I grip his waist and flex my hands in his shirt nervously as we fly through the streets, trees and houses whizzing by me at dizzying speed. I begin to see signs for the airport when we're about five miles away, and my heart rate spikes. If it goes any higher, Emmett will be driving me to the hospital instead.

I must be gripping Em too tightly because he takes my hand and removes it from his shirt, placing it on his side. I knock my helmet into his, something we did as kids, to communicate the joy we felt while riding together. I've never loved him more in this moment.

I see the entrance to the airport looming before me, and if I could jump up and down I would. I scan the signs quickly looking for US Airways, and point excitedly for Emmett when I see which section it's housed in. He takes the turnoff for concourse B and screeches to a stop before the ticketing/drop off doors.

I scramble off the bike and rip the helmet off, looking for a clock to tell me what time it is. Twenty minutes. He's got to be boarding by now.

Emmett takes the helmet from me and I start to run, only to turn back to tell him I'll call him to find out where he is when I'm done. He nods, and yells "Go!" so I turn back and run towards the automatic doors that don't open fast enough. I jog in place waiting for them to slide enough for me to squeeze through, and sprint towards the scheduling monitors.

Scanning the names quickly, I find Manchu's flight and gate number and see the word BOARDING blinking evilly next to it, mocking me. My sneakers squeak on the linoleum as I whirl towards the first row of ticket agents I find. Telling them what I'm looking for, I'm directed towards the end of the row and thankfully, there's no one in line but the woman manning the stand seems to be about to leave.

"Wait! Wait!" People turn to look at me as I jump over a suitcase that's lying on the ground, stumbling on my landing and falling directly into the Formica counter. "I need a ticket!" I manage to hack out, and the woman smiles that airport attendant smile at me.

"Where would you like to fly today?"

"Nowhere! But I need a ticket to Italy!" I haven't had time to check pricing, so I figure I'll just get a ticket that's going where he is.

"Which airport in Italy? What town are you _not_ visiting?" The woman looks at me like I'm stupid, which I don't appreciate, but I don't have time to get bent out of shape.

I try desperately to remember what Emmett told me. To get to Volterra where his family lives, he has to fly to…"Rome!" I yell triumphantly.

"That first connection is boarding."

"Yes, I know. I don't really need to be on it, I just need to get to the gate."

She looks at me again like I have two heads, but quotes me a price for the flight, which thankfully has a few seats left.

"Four thousand dollars?" I scream in shock.

Smirking, she replies. "All we have left is first class."

I admit, for a moment when I hear the price, I hesitate. Then I think of Manchu, lying beside me with my hands stroking over his tattoos, while he looks at me with love.

There's no question. I hand my credit card over.

She prints out my golden ticket and wishes me a nice non-flight. She's lucky I don't have time to stay and sling insults at her. I start running towards the gate and jump in place as I wait my turn for security. I inch up the line and when I get close, I throw my bag in the plastic bin they provide, and take my shoes off. Miraculously, I soon find I'm on the other side heading towards customs.

A nice man there smiles warmly at me while also scolding me for cutting my flight too close. I smile sweetly and he must take a liking to me even though I look homeless because he hands my paperwork back to me and asks the guy behind him to drive me to the gate in one of those little carts.

I'm thrilled as we whip past people on the moving walkways, past newsstands and last chances to get coffee or use the bathroom. I see gate B8 ahead and I'm relieved to see the door open and a small line of people still boarding.

Before the tram comes to a full stop, I jump off and run towards the gate, nearly overturning a lady with a stroller. I'm bobbing up and down trying to see over people's heads to find Manchu's fiery, wild hair but I don't see it. I step up on a padded chair in the departures area and scan the crowd.

My heart stops completely when I see my beloved bronze mass exiting the mens room and making its way to the counter. I'm about a hundred feet away from the rest of my life, so I do what anyone would do.

I start yelling.

"Edward! Edward!" I'm waving my hands frantically as I watch him approach the flight attendant checking tickets. He doesn't hear me so I jump off the chair and dash towards him, jumping and yelling as I go. I see he's about to duck into the doorway so I give it all I've got and jump up, screaming at the top of my lungs.

"MANCHUUU!"

I've inadvertently smashed into the back of a tall man, so I can't immediately see if he's heard me. I jump up again, but can't see over the guy so I put my hands on his shoulders and jump while bracing myself against him.

He curses, but I'm rewarded with the sight of Manchu, scanning the crowd with a look of confusion on his face. I jump once more and scream his name again right into the man's ear and finally, _finally,_ Manchu's face turns to one of awe as he sees my head bobbing up and down in the crowd that separates us.

I want to cry with relief that I've caught him. I dash around the man, muttering an apology, making my way closer to where I know he is. The crowd suddenly clears, and I stop short when I find myself standing not two feet from the love of my life.

"Izzy, what are you doing here?" He asks, confusion and amazement playing over his beautiful features. "I'm about to leave."

"I know! I couldn't let you go without telling you that I love you."

I watch his eyes as they move to look anywhere but at me, and I feel my heart clench. "Izzy, I don't…."

I cut him off quickly, desperately. "I'm _in_ love with you. I love everything about you and I'm sorry I'm such a jerk and that I didn't want you to love me and that I didn't want to recognize that I love you, but I do! I do and I'll take anything you want to give me. I want to date you, if you still want me!" I push all of that out in one breath; terrified to take too much time, time I've already wasted in telling him what I need to.

I stare at his face for what feels like forever, waiting for him to speak. His eyes turn down, mimicking the frown that begins to form on his face. "It's too late, Izzy."

"No! It can't be, I refuse to let you say that." I grab for his shirt, trying to hold him to me as the fear and anguish I was hoping against starts to fill my heart. I close my eyes, pressing my forehead against the cotton lying against his chest. "I'm so, so sorry I was selfish. I never thought about how you felt in all this."

He sighs above me. "How I feel about it? It's too late to date, Iz." In my anguish, I think I hear mirth in his tone and I look sharply at him, hating that he's getting pleasure out of denying me.

A grin starts to spread across his lips, the new mustache twitching and curling around his mouth as the grin turns into the most welcome smile I've ever seen.

"I've been dating you for months, Half Pint, you just didn't know it."

I blink at him, my hand twisting his shirt further into my grip and his words sink in.

"You have?"

"Yup. It's just not enough now."

My brow furrows, wondering what he's playing at. The ping ponging of his words is making me light-headed.

"Move in with me." The smile that had been welcoming gets impossibly bigger as his hands rise to frame my face between them. "Move in with me. Start a life with me. I know it's soon, but I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, you crazy, ridiculous, sexy girl. Say you'll try."

The surest answer to any question I've ever been asked escapes my lips in a rush.

"Yes."

Manchu quickly pulls my face to his, stopping just short of kissing me to look in my eyes before gently placing his mouth on mine. We move together, cementing our new deal. Everything I have to show him is in that kiss. After a moment, I move away, and get lost in the way he's looking at me. "But I don't want to try, I want to succeed." I reach up to kiss him again, feeling his mouth smile against my lips at my statement.

We reluctantly break apart when our surroundings ebb their way back in.

"Sir, sir!" The flight attendant behind Manchu is tapping him on the shoulder. "If you want to get on this plane, you have to board now." He looks to her, and then back at me.

"Go." I say as I push against his stomach. "I'll be here when you get back."

He glances down at my hands that lay between us, and grabs the one still holding my passport and boarding pass. He grins, turning his head to the side to read the destination and flight number. "It looks like you're coming with me."

"What? I can't. I don't have any clothes or a toothbrush or a comb." I run my hands over my head, my eyes growing wide as I remember the state I'm in. "Oh my god, I'm such a mess, I'm sorry!" I pull at my dirty shirt and try to rub the grease stain on my leg with the calf of my other one.

"You've never looked more beautiful. We can buy you anything you need when we get there."

"I can't afford it. I just spent four thousand dollars to tell you I love you." I smile at him, the thought of running away with him to Italy starting to become a possibility in my head.

"Four thousand, huh? First class. Good thing that's the only way I fly." He smirks and starts pulling me towards the counter.

"Of course it is." I smirk. "Wait, I can't just leave. Emmett is waiting for me at the curb. And I have a cat I have to feed…"

"Minor details, you can call Emmett from inside the plane, and I'm sure he'll take care of your cat." He pulls me against him, and my body instantly molds to his, right where it belongs.

"Okay." I respond, my brain heady with the feel of him. "I am crazy in love with you. I need you to believe that."

"Oh Half Pint, do you honestly think I thought it was possible for you to _not_ be in love with me?"

I grin and roll my eyes as he kisses me full on the mouth once more before we finally board the flight. Settling into my expensive but awesome first class seat, I pull my phone out to call Emmett and see I've got a text from him sent almost twenty minutes ago, just as I'd purchased my ticket.

_Go. Fall in love in Italy. I'll take care of Fender._

* * *

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**From the planetblue Archive of Awesome Fic List:**

**Good Deal by m7707**

Bella Swan hates Rosalie Hale. Her idea of revenge? Sleeping with the Ice Queen's boyfriend, Edward Cullen. AH, very OOC, very rated M.

_**I know the timing to get through the airport is somewhat ridiculous (but not impossible). Just enjoy and go with it :)**_

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	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

The hot Tuscan sun dances over my skin as we fly through the vines. Their roots meticulously lined and the tendrils chaotic in their growth. The scent of grapes and earth and clay hang heavy in the air, but the wind washing over us refreshes and intoxicates as we fly through the tangle.

I tip my face up towards the sun to feel its warmth, and close my eyes behind my sunglasses. My arms circle loosely around Manchu as he expertly guides the old dirt bike around his family's estate. Choosing to come here, choosing _him_ has been the best decision I've ever made. Our pseudo honeymoon has been filled with family, food, laughter, and love.

I nuzzle my head into Manchu's shoulder, and think back to when we arrived. It was ten days ago now, but it feels like a lifetime.

Once we landed at Leonardo da Vinci airport in Rome, I tried to clean up a bit in the restroom. The stopover and long flight didn't help my state of disarray, and I wished fervently that I had taken the time to change before rushing to catch him. Manchu assured me I looked fine, but I knew I was meeting his family and was quite nervous to show up looking like a waif.

Watching the foreign and beautiful landscape fly by on the three-hour trip from Rome to Volterra in the rental was otherworldly. Just a mere twenty-four hours prior I had been licking my wounds and convinced I'd be forever single. But there I was, my hand being clutched tightly and lovingly, being adorned with soft kisses to my knuckles by the most beautiful man I'd ever met.

Eventually, we arrived at what he claimed was the beginning of his estate. He pointed out acres of pinpoint straight lines made up of trellised plants, sloping over hillsides both steep and shallow. We followed an old and crumbled rock wall, deeply embedded in the earth, until we came before a pair of grand iron gates strung with ivy and blooming vines. The words 'vini Volturi e la famiglia" were cast into the top of the gates, which Manchu translated as, 'Volturi Wines and Family'. They were propped open in invitation, and we started the long drive to the main house over the dirt and cobblestone path amongst the grass.

We travelled for a few minutes until I saw a structure looming before us. A grand house much like you'd expect to see in picture books or postcards. The walls were textured beige with deep red clay shingles covering the ambling roof. There were many sections, different in shape and size that made up the house; turret rooms and balconies, a tower rising high from the top, all with the same ivy and flowering vines from the gate wandering around the walls of the villa. Manchu explained that this was the main house, and that all of his uncles and their wives lived on the grounds, in other houses dotting the landscape.

Smoothly pulling to a stop on the circular drive in front of the main entrance, my nerves spiked and I held Manchu's hand tightly. "Do they even know I'm coming?"

He kissed my hand once more, as his mustache tickled. "I texted my uncle Marcus when we landed. Don't worry so much. My family will be honored to meet you. After all, _I _chose you, and they _love_ me." He smirked at me before squeezing my fingers, and climbed out of the car.

Before he could even grab his bag from the trunk, the door opened to a cacophony of sound. More people than I thought could live in one house poured out of the opening, led by a stout woman in a day dress complete with an apron you'd expect elder Italian women to wear.

"Edward! Ragazzo mio! Sei venuto a casa da me!" I noticed the group hung back to allow whom I guessed was Manchu's grandmother, the first greeting. She pulled him into an all-encompassing hug, complete with generous kissing of his face as she held his head in her big, loving hands.

"Nonna, mi sei mancata." Manchu replied easily, before getting swallowed up by the rest of the gatherers.

Eventually, all eyes turned to me, and Manchu stepped back to place his arm around my shoulder in a tight grasp, confidently.

"Cari, questa e Isabella, l'amore mio. La mia ragazza. My girlfriend." He finished in English for my benefit, and looked down at me with a grin.

"Ciao." I said, and pressed my hand to Manchu's chest. Looking up to him, I asked him how to say it was nice to meet them. He smiled and whispered in my ear.

I turned back to the crowd and began the phrase nervously. "Mi sono innamorato di tua nipote."

They stared at me a moment before their voices rose in a smattering chorus of Italian and English. My hand was being gripped in greeting while simultaneously being hugged by various members of his family, all of them welcoming and happy to have me. I looked at Manchu in question, before a dark haired girl came up and smacked him on the arm.

"It's not nice to tease, Edward." She said in English laced heavily with her beautiful Italian accent.

"What did you have me say?" I narrowed my eyes at him, realizing he'd set me up.

"Poor girl. He makes you say 'I'm in love with your grandson'." She answered before gripping my arm and smiling warmly at me.

I turned to him and he shrugged, smiling with not a care in the world. I looked at the woman and saw his grandmother watching us, so I answered with the few words of Italian I knew from movies and books. "Si, amore."

* * *

The days that followed were dreamlike. Our days were spent amongst Manchu's large family; aunts and uncles and cousins, who made me feel welcome with borrowed clothes and treated me like one of their own. Most days, the whole family would gather, along with the vineyard workers and families from neighboring villas, to sit down to a banquet they called il pranzo, or midday meal. I called it a feast.

Vast amounts of cheeses, smoked meats, cured olives and of course, wine, covered the long tables Nonna had in the outdoor gardens. It was like the movies, everyone talking at once and passing plates and filling glasses. The children would ignore their mothers telling them to eat in favor of running through the gates and flowerbeds with their cousins.

I received lessons in grape harvesting and wine making from the uncles and Nonno. I made fresh pasta and bread with the aunts, and played games of gin rummy with Nonna. I never won, a fact she seemed to be especially proud of. She spoke little English, but we were able to communicate just fine.

I particularly loved the lazy afternoons watching Manchu with the youngest members of his clan. It filled my heart with joy to see him running amongst vines playing hide and seek, or soothing a baby that refused to be put down for their nap.

I began to cherish the craziness of always having someone around. Not a moment went by when the house didn't have at least ten people in it, and I came to love the familial experience. There were a few times I had to excuse myself from the amount of love that surrounded me, lest I embarrass myself with an outpouring of emotion. Having no other relatives but Emmett most of my life, I had no idea what family truly meant, and I didn't know I was missing out until I met Manchu's.

Nights were spent wrapped around each other, under filmy curtains that surrounded the bed and ruffled from breezes through opened windows in the turret room. We shared the depth of our love with the pressing of our bodies, showing each other what it meant to be home.

* * *

A dip in the dirt rattles the bike, breaking me from the memory. The loud engine cuts through the silent grounds, as it's il pranzo and the vineyard is empty. The machines are off and the various field workers are either at home with their families in the surrounding hills or up at the main house, being spoiled by Nonna.

We're not joining them up at the big house today because Manchu wants me to see the far end of the vineyard. The oldest parts, where the dynamic that is the Volturi family started their empire. He's packed us a lunch, which is in the basket strapped behind me on the fender.

As we climb up a steep hill, I cling to his back more thoroughly, pressing my lips to his thin t-shirt. I'm so full of love these days, a feeling I'm quickly getting used to, and I have a hard time keeping my hands off of him. I move them under his shirt, feeling the slopes of his chest and stomach that replicate the rolling hillsides we're riding on. He gives my hand a squeeze through his shirt before pulling the bike over to an orchard of beautiful olive trees.

Manchu had explained that many vineyards use olive trees as protection against heavy winds, but that they also thrive in the same soil and climate. Some, including Manchu's family, believe that the roots of olive trees add a heady element to their grapes, and that the grape vines lend a similar trait to the olives. Volturi doesn't harvest their olives for mass market, instead, selling them to local businesses and of course, personal consumption.

He helps me off the bike and I stretch, moving my sunglasses to the top of my head to get a better look at the surrounding area. We're perched on one of the farthest hills and I can just make out a few of the houses on the other side. The vines here are majestic, their scent enough to make my mouth water, and their abundance makes for a very serene, very private patch of land.

Manchu sits and leans back against a tree filled with the Frantoio olives, and pats his thighs in invitation. I slide down in front of him so that we're both looking out over the land, and our hands lace together around my stomach.

"I don't want to leave." I say, overcome with the emotions this trip has instilled in me.

"We'll come back, I promise. As much as you want."

We sit quietly, Manchu eventually leaning over to grab the basket and he feeds me small bites from his fingers. Sweet fruit and sharp cheese, and of course, a carefully selected bottle of never-ending wine.

I'm high on nectar, the earthy air, and Manchu when I turn to kiss him, before breaking away and leaning my head back on his shoulder. I feel him press his cheek to my hair, and he lets out a content sigh.

"Manchu," I start and he hums in my ear. "I've been thinking."

"What about, Half Pint?" His lips press to my neck and I lean into him, never getting enough of the thrill his mouth on me brings.

"Names."

"What kind of names?" His tongue darts out and leaves a trail from the collar of my shirt to my ear. "Wine names? Olive names?"

"Baby names."

The lips on my skin stall, and I feel his breath rush over my skin. "Is there something you need to tell me?"

Realization dawns, and I start laughing.

I feel him pull back from me. "I'm glad you're happy about it but this is kind of a shock to me, so forgive me if I'm not sure what's so funny." He says, and I turn to see him with his eyes wide, but with the gleam that hasn't left since the airport.

"I'm not pregnant, well, not yet." I watch Manchu's eyebrows rise. "I was thinking of all the rooms you want to fill."

"Half Pint, what are you talking about?"

"Well, I like the classic names. No Dylan's or Montana's."

"_Okay…"_

I turn back around after plucking a grape from the bunch in the basket, and lean back on him. "Family names. Like Elisabetta, after your mother, and Luciana, after your grandmother. Those are the names we should choose. Or variations of."

I hear him suck air in through his nose, and I feel his lips return to my neck, greedier somehow. He replies without removing his mouth, kisses trailing and leaving me with goose bumps.

"And boy names? You do realize that with six kids, odds are good we'll have some of both."

My smile is big, threatening to split my face in two. "I'm still on the fence with the six, but I think it would be safe to have four names at our fingertips."

"Five."

"Four."

"We'll see. I think when the time comes, you're going to realize you're so happy being knocked up by me you'll be begging me for seven."

I roll my eyes at his statement, even if I have sort of come to appreciate the arrogance that is Edward Cullen. "I can't handle seven of your kids, all with egos as big as yours. Four."

"Bella, love," I shiver at the name when he says it, turning to jello.

"Hmm?" My eyes close as his hand moves under my shirt, cupping my breast.

"I'll have to handle them having your pigheadedness." He laughs as my elbow makes contact with his ribs, having the unfortunate side effect of him removing his hand.

I hear him clear his throat slightly, and wait for him to continue. "Forgive me for what I'm about to ask, but we can't talk seriously about a future until I do." He places his hand back on my stomach, picking at the material of my shirt. "Now that the rush of our trip is coming to a close, and reality is looming with us returning home…is this still something you want?"

"I've been waiting for this." I say quietly, knowing this question had to be asked, surprised it took him so long.

"I've just been enjoying you. Enjoying my family." I feel him shrug behind me. "I figured you being here with me was answer enough, but not if we're going to talk babies. That, I take seriously."

I sigh, sad that I've made such a mess of things that he feels the need to be reassured, but he deserves to be. "I can't explain it, exactly. The feeling of giving myself to someone so completely has the opposite effect of what I always thought it would. I feel serene and secure, not frightened and wary. Your confidence in us has completely strengthened mine. I'm yours."

He squeezes me tightly, and chuckles. "See? Sometimes my confidence is a good thing." He presses his mouth to the side of my head and I feel his smile, before he reaches out, putting the empty bottle of wine back in the basket. He moves to stand, and I hike my lazy body up and start gathering the remnants of lunch.

He threads his fingers through mine as we walk to where he parked the ancient bike, and helps me on after he's seated himself. We take off, my head groggy as I lean my chin on his shoulder, taking in the picturesque scene.

We drive through a tall cropping of Cyprus trees, and I feel him slowing the bike down near another group of olive trees. These seem to be the Leccino variety, and I wonder if we're on a mission to cultivate some for Nonna.

I can hear water running nearby, and Manchu points me towards the direction of a small brook, bubbling and churning lazily, wetting old roots and rocks as it goes.

I go to stand next to the brook and watch the water, breathing deeply its aqua scent mixed with clay. "Hand me the basket, I'll start to pick." I hold my hand out behind me, but he doesn't give it to me. I turn, and see Manchu wedging the bike up against the olive tree, and taking a woodblock out from the basket.

I raise my eyebrow in question as he kicks the wood under the back tire, bracing it. He rises slowly, and leans on the bike, crossing his arms. My stomach clenches at the sight of him, relaxed and gorgeous, just a hint of his tattoos peeking out from under his short sleeves.

"What are you doing?" I ask, watching as his fingers reach his lip and trace his mustache slowly down the sides of it.

"I think it's time we finally broke you in."

I don't answer, my head filled with clouds and wine and ink on skin.

"You don't think the only reason I brought the bike was because it was too far to walk, did you?"

My eyes meet his and I whimper as his hand leaves his face, joining the other on the button of his shorts. I look down to see him pop the closure open, and hear a dangerous, dark chuckle escape his mouth.

"I'm finally going to fuck you on a bike."

My knees literally buckle, and Manchu walks to me, grabbing me around the waist. He gives me no time to recover, his mouth covering mine in a hungry kiss. My arms flail at my sides, unable to latch onto him before he pulls his face back and lifts the hem of my shirt up and over my head, tossing it aside like it's unwelcome. The air touches my braless nipples and they harden instantly; I try to remember if I've ever been fully naked outdoors, and find the thought of being so exposed arouses me.

His mouth covers one needy, hard tip and he sucks, holding my breast possessively. I finally remember I have hands and they fly to his hair, my fingers grasping the locks, the scent of the olive shampoo we've been using wafting through my senses. His hands leave my breast; skim the nipple of the one that had been ignored, and move to the button of my shorts.

In a flash, he's opened them and tugged so they fall to my feet in a heap. "There's only one measly bit of fabric separating you from the world, Bella. I want you completely naked in my vineyard."

"I want you naked too." I whimper, as I finish what he started and pull his zipper down in a rush of lust and need. His shorts fall, revealing that there isn't any fabric separating him from the outside elements, and I swallow as I look at him fully erect and like a divining rod, bobbing and pointing at my wet flesh.

His size still stuns me every time, and I smile thinking about the first time I held him in my mouth. I've practiced some this trip, and even though I can't get it all in, I sure as hell have enjoyed trying. "Can I taste you?" I lick my lips and press my hands to his hips, my eyes mesmerized by the sight of his cock wanting me.

He tugs at my underwear, causing it to inch down my thighs until I work my legs and kick them off completely. His eyes travel down the scrolls and fancy feathers on one arm, crossing over my breasts, down the jungle-garden of the other, until they follow the stretch of cherry blossoms adorning my side and hip. "You are so fucking beautiful. The backdrop behind you ordinary, framing the splendor that is you, perfectly."

Being completely naked outside is a revelation, one I can see myself becoming a huge fan of. I listen to his exquisite words, and wonder at where I am, what I've come from, and sink to my knees, wanting to show this man exactly how much what he's given me means to me.

"Oh god, that's it, get on your knees, baby." He fists my hair as I sink to the soft earth, my hand sliding to caress his ass, and I look up at him in admiration before flexing my jaw. He barks out a laugh, so I lick from base to tip, shutting him up. I get him thoroughly wet, my licking causing his hands to tighten, and when I place the head in my mouth, I feel his ass clenching at the strain of trying not to thrust. I suck him in slowly, my lips skimming over the ridges and I hum in appreciation of his delectable manhood. I don't even attempt to get him all the way in, just satisfying myself with running my tongue over him as I begin to slide up and down his shaft. I feel him thrust experimentally, and nod my head, telling him to proceed.

He gathers my hair in a ponytail with one hand, wrapping the length around his fist, while the other palms the crown and gently pushes me towards him as his hips flex and pump into my mouth. I groan around him at the feel of him becoming more forceful, and he pumps a little deeper, a little faster, my tongue and teeth scraping the underside of his cock while my hand comes up and cups his balls.

"Ah…fuck…!" Manchu cries out, pumping into me twice more before removing himself from my mouth. He automatically lets go of my hair and places his hand on my jaw, rubbing the muscles quickly before guiding me to stand before him.

His mouth comes down hard on mine, his teeth biting the flesh of my already swollen lips and his tongue invading deliciously. "I fucking love you." He says, before replacing his mouth, diving his hand to my overheated pussy, and fingering the wetness he finds there. His arm snakes around my back, and turns me so my ass rests on the seat of the bike without breaking our kiss.

He moves my thigh to straddle the other side, so I'm backwards on the machine, and presses me back with his body as he moves his mouth to my neck, sucking hard on the skin, inevitably leaving his mark. He fumbles blindly for my leg and hooks it on the foot peg, repeating the action with the other. He spreads my knees apart and the outside air touching my pussy so completely makes me shiver.

The length of him presses on my thigh when he straddles the bike, and grinds against me. His body engulfs mine, the metal tank of the bike cool against my back. I feel him reach between us and he inserts a finger, making me cry out, before taking it out and rubbing the slickness across our lips as we continue to kiss. We're both frantic at the taste of me on him, our tongues sliding over each other and my excitement.

He moves over me, and the tip of him pokes at my entrance, so I spread my legs impossibly wider and move my hips, inviting him in.

He pulls his head back from me, and our eyes lock. "Does Half Pint want to be made love to? Or does the Professor of Deviant Behavior want to be fucked hard?"

"Oh god, fucked!"

"What is that you want?" He teases and demands, his breath hot on my face.

"Fuck me, outside, on this bike. Right now!" His eyes flash and smolder, his hands move to grip the handlebars behind me, and he delves into me, hard and fast and rough.

My hands grow tighter on his flesh, my nails digging into the grove of olive trees that adorn his back, as he pounds into me relentlessly, grunting and cursing. I lift my feet from the pegs and wind them around his tight thighs, his legs working hard to give himself leverage on the ground.

His hips move swiftly, the sound of our bodies connecting and separating in frenzy, loud in the open air. It doesn't take me long to feel the vibrations in my pussy start, the clenching of the muscle that I know he feels, and I come around him, lifting my hips as much as I can off the seat to keep his cock in me as long as possible.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, Bella, you feel so fucking good." I'm still riding my orgasm out when I feel the stuttering movement that signals he's coming, but he surprises me when he stops completely. I open my eyes to look at him, only to find him just inches from my face, looking intently at me. "Now, I need to love you."

He starts rocking gently over me, the length of him moving in and out of me slowly. Our eyes stay connected as he moves one hand to my head, stroking my hair, while the other slides down my body, coming to rest on my hip.

The ride is torturously slow, the love making impossibly beautiful. There's no fury, no rush to the finish. It's just me and Manchu, the love between us so real it magnetizes the surrounding air. He leans down to capture my lips in a kiss, the rhythm of his mouth on mine a copy of the pace our bodies have set.

When I feel myself start to give in again, he moans and lifts his upper body from mine, careful not to let me go as he keeps us steady on the bike while he drives deeper into me. I watch his face in wonder, his eyes staying focused on me, while he empties himself into me with three final, pulsing thrusts.

He collapses on top of me and keeps the bike still on shaky legs, his body heaving and quivering, matching my own. His hands move to my face and he kisses me, once, twice, three times before pressing his forehead to mine.

I keep my eyes open as we breathe together, our chests hitting and retreating as our bodies start to calm. Without moving his head from mine, he opens his eyes to find me gazing at him, and I open my mouth to speak.

"Tu sei il mio sole, la mia luna e la mia terra. Sono completamente tuo. Il mio cuore ti appartiene."

I watch as his eyes start to shimmer, and my favorite Manchu smile spreads slowly across his face before he leans down, capturing my soul in his perfect kiss.

* * *

**_Bella translation at the end: _**

_You are my sun and my moon and my earth. I'm yours completely. I give you my heart to possess._

**_Family conversation translation:_**

"_Edward! My boy! You've returned home to me!" I noticed the group hung back to allow whom I guessed was Manchu's grandmother, the first greeting. She pulled him into an all-encompassing hug, complete with generous kissing of his face as she held his head in her big, loving hands. _

"_Nonna, I've missed you." Manchu replied easily, before getting swallowed up by the rest of the gatherers._

_Eventually, all eyes turned to me, and Manchu stepped back to place his arm around my shoulder in a tight grasp, confidently._

"_Everyone, this is Isabella, my love. My girlfriend." He finished in English for my benefit, and looked down at me with a grin._

"_Ciao." I said, and pressed my hand to Manchu's chest. Looking up to him, I asked him how to say it was nice to meet them. He smiled and whispered in my ear. _

_I turned back to the crowd and began the phrase nervously. "Mi sono innamorato di tua nipote."_

_They stared at me a moment before their voices rose in a smattering chorus of Italian and English. My hand was being gripped in greeting while simultaneously being hugged by various members of his family, all of them welcoming and happy to have me. I looked at Manchu in question, before a dark haired girl came up and smacked him on the arm._

"_It's not nice to tease, Edward." She said in English laced heavily with her beautiful Italian accent._

"_What did you have me say?" I narrowed my eyes at him, realizing he'd set me up. _

"_Poor girl. He makes you say 'I'm in love with your grandson'." She answered before gripping my arm and smiling warmly at me. _

_I turned to him and he shrugged, smiling with not a care in the world. I looked at the woman and saw his grandmother watching us, so I answered with the few words of Italian I knew from movies and books. "Yes, love."_

* * *

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**From the planetblue Archive of Awesome Fic List:**

**I'm devoting this chapter to a few more of my favorite fics that would've made the cut at the end of a chapter, but sadly, have been pulled. In no particular order:**

**Living Backwards by ciaobella27**

**How To Save A Life by unholyobsession**

**Fourteen by crimsonmarie**

_**Just the epi left.**_

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	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

**_July_**

I wipe my hands on my jeans and go searching for Manchu, finding him in his office going through medical books. "All done!" I announce and sit on his desk.

He sits back and rubs his hands over his face, moving them up to his head where they sit, making his shirt hitch to expose the sexy bit of hair leading south. "I wish you would've let me help you."

"Nope. I had to do this on my own. Only took two days!" I raise my fists in triumph, proud to have unpacked the last of the boxes we moved over the weekend. It was a small accomplishment, but Manchu and I know the significance.

"Well, Half Pint, the house looks better with your stuff in it." His eyes take on that devilish shine as his hand moves to the inside of my thigh. "But it looks a hell of a lot better with _you_ in it."

"Smooth talker. You don't have to convince me anymore, you won." I joke, and allow his hand to caress me outside of my pants, squirming a bit to get him to move closer.

"Pfft. You knew you were going to live here the first time you visited. There was no way you were going to let a fine specimen such as myself get away."

"Oh my god, you're still such a dick."

"Hmm, how about I show you what a dick I am." He says, as he takes my hand and places it over his growing erection.

* * *

**_August_**

The backyard at my house, well, the house I'm now renting to Alice and Jasper until they can afford to buy it, is resplendent with Hot Wheels decorations. Streamers, balloons, and colorful signs hang from every possible space, all wishing the twins a happy fourth birthday. It's a special day for many reasons, the most important, of course, is having Timmy here with us, happy and healthy.

I go into the house to help Alice bring some more paper goods out in preparation for the guests' arrival, and I spot the boys sitting on the couch, Fender in between them purring happily.

"I'm so glad you wanted to keep Fender with the house. He's so much happier now that I'm not here." I laugh, feeling a bit bruised by my former pets' aversion to me.

"Oh, he's so good with the boys. I have no idea what his problem was with you." She smiles at me and I stick my tongue out at her.

"Whatever, I'm a dog person now." I say, thinking of Roscoe and my first trip with him in the sidecar. He really did love it. His tongue was hanging out the whole time.

Alice hands me a beer and I sip, looking around at the completely lived in kitchen. This house was waiting for a family like Alice's to make it into a home, something I was never going to do.

I help with the food, and when we start bringing bowls of chips out, I see that Carlisle and Mimi have arrived and are sitting with Edward, while Roscoe sniffs their feet, at one of the picnic tables. It was nice of Alice and Jasper to invite them. Carlisle leaves for Italy tomorrow with Mimi in tow, for three months and this is the last chance Edward and Rose have to see him.

While Alice and Jasper greet the parents of the twins' friends, I talk to Mimi about the vineyard and quietly mention she should find the old dirt bike and have Carlisle show her the older section of the estate. The smirk on her face tells me she knows exactly what I'm hinting at.

* * *

**_September_**

"God, you look so good in a suit." I'm watching Manchu dress in the closet from my perch on our bed.

"I recall a time you thought my suits were made of burlap and you thought I was boring."

"Yes, well, you had your own misconceptions. Does this dress look like it would belong to a teacher of cat lady literature?" I stand and slink my hands over my tight, black bandage dress.

Manchu stalks towards me and I feel giddy. The butterflies have yet to die, even living with him 24/7. I hope they never do. He places his hands where my own traced my body, and repeats the path up and down my sides.

"If you taught books at all, Half Pint, it would definitely be of the erotica variety." He latches his lips to my neck in a long, slow taste, and pulls back quickly, reminding me we have to leave.

I pout. "Can't we tell Rose and Emmett that I'm too sick for dinner? I think I feel an ache coming on." I place my hand over my hardening nipple, to tell him exactly where that ache is.

A growl escapes his mouth, but he denies me, instead grabbing my bag and ushering me out the door. "Trust me, there's nothing I'd rather do than stay here and fuck you silly, but they're expecting us."

After a torturous car ride that involved roaming hands and possibly some road head, we pull up to the Italian restaurant Rose favors. They're already seated when we get shown to the table, and there's a bucket of champagne chilling next to it, four flutes placed in front of each setting.

"Oooh Emmett, dinner's on you AND you're springing for champagne? What did you do?" I look at him accusingly, and he laughs, shaking his head.

"Can't I treat my baby sister to a nice meal?" He smiles huge and looks at Rose, who also has a big smile plastered on her face and is completely radiating. I look back and forth between the two of them, until Rose takes her hand out from under the table and slowly holds it out over the center of the table.

"Oh my god! When?" I shriek, and cover my mouth. On the third finger of her left hand is a beautiful diamond, shimmering and aflame in the light of the candles.

"Yesterday!" Rose beams, and kisses Emmett's cheek.

"I had no idea!" I start to tear up, and grasp Rose's hand, turning it left and right to see it from all angles.

Emmett clears his throat and puts his arm around his new fiancée. "Well, I knew Carlisle was leaving for Italy for three months, and I wouldn't have the opportunity to ask for her hand if I waited, so I just kind of blurted it out at the twins' party."

"That was a month ago." I question, wondering why he waited to ask her.

"It was a spur of the moment thing, which kind of freaked me out, if I'm honest." He looks sheepishly at Rose who seems too in love with my brother to mind what he's said. "And then, I uh, had to get up the courage to ask Edward to help me pick out a ring."

I look at Manchu, who's rubbing his mustache and grinning. "You knew?"

"Yeah. I told him he hadn't asked _my_ permission, so I made him sweat it out a little."

"Dude, you freaked me out." Emmett laughs, wiping his brow at the memory.

"I guess that's it, we'll be forever linked through these two. No getting rid of me now." I joke, holding Manchu's thigh under the table.

His hand grasps mine and he turns to look seriously at me. "I guess I have some news of my own."

I startle, thoughts running rampant of him moving, transferring his practice, meeting someone else…I laugh at the tiny lingering of insecurity, and turn to look at him.

"I've started the ball rolling to add your name to the title of the house." A slow smile spreads across his face. "Now we're really stuck with each other."

* * *

**_November_**

"That's it! That's the last question!" I yell over the crowd, ending the night's portion of trivia. The band starts to kick up again, and I climb down, flashing a bit of thigh to Manchu as I do, and he shows his appreciation with a slow lick of his lips.

Thanksgiving was yesterday, so the bar is especially crowded with people that have come to Nashville to visit relatives here for the holiday.

Manchu and I spent ours with Rose and Emmett, where she asked me to be a bridesmaid for their spring wedding, which I excitedly accepted. I begged them to make it black tie, which they refused. I pouted, my wish for seeing Manchu in a tux denied.

Angie and I are flying around the bar, sloshing drinks and wracking up the tips. An old friend of Emmett's that's returned for the holiday makes his way to me and we chat, catching up and introducing our significant others.

He asks Manchu, Ang and I to join them in a shot, and we agree, so I grab my beloved SoCo and pour one for all of us. We cheer, tipping our heads back and shooting the liquid down our throats.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Angie leaning over the bar sink, spitting the contents out of her mouth. My hands rise to my face when it dawns on me, and she looks at me with a sheepish grin on her face, and nods.

For the next few weeks until she announces the pregnancy, we keep a fake bottle of SoCo under the bar, filled with apple juice.

* * *

**_June_**

"Excuse me, but I think that's my cappuccino." I say, to the man arrogantly holding my cup.

"I think this is my espresso." He replies, looking at the contents.

"Can't you see the foam? Espresso has no foam, last I looked." I go to take my cup and saucer from him, but he holds it away from me.

"If the lady would allow, I'll walk it to her table for her." He gives me his most sexy smile, the one I can't say no to.

I roll my eyes at him and huff. "Fine. But don't take that as an invitation."

He follows me out of the café to an empty table in the busy palazzo. He places my drink in front of me on the metal table and motions to the seat opposite.

"It would be rude of me to allow a beautiful woman such as yourself to enjoy this fine day alone."

Before I can reply, an old woman feeding birds bits of muffin pipes in, admonishing him in broken English. "You a stranger. She no know you."

He looks to the woman and takes his ball cap off, tipping it at her. "You're right, forgive my rudeness." He turns to me, smiling brightly. "My name is Edward Cullen."

I gasp and look at the woman and then to him, my hand over my heart. "Why, that's so strange. My name is Isabella Cullen. What a small world."

"Well, it's fate then!" He exclaims and sits down, grabbing my hand and running his thumb over the set of rings on my finger. One placed on my hand a few months ago, the other, just last week.

I watch as he lowers his mouth to kiss my hand, raising his eyes to look at me through his lashes.

"I want to make one thing clear, ma'am."

"And what's that?" I ask as I look at him with a full heart, butterflies dancing wildly below.

"This, my dear, is definitely a date."

* * *

**_The End_**

**Well, that's it for Manchu and Half Pint. I hope you enjoyed it, as I've enjoyed sharing it with you. ****I need to thank the ladies who stood tall next to me and got this shined up pretty for you, I'd really love it if you took a moment to read it.**

**Carrie ZM, she has become a true friend, when I needed it most. She cleaned this up for you guys with her mad beta skillz. She's stuck with me now. I've tattooed my name on her ass.**

**Grabadietcoke, she's my rock and took time from her incredibly busy life to tell me what was good and what wasn't so good. Trust me, thank her for that.**

**Mkystich, dude, she made the banner that made half of you read this in the first place.**

**VancouverCanuckGirl pre-read this and told me I had something special.**

**Camilla10 took all my bad Italian Google translations and made them correct. The ones that aren't are my fault.**

**The ladies over at The Lemonade Stand, who pimped this thing out. They're the reason the other half of you read this.**

**The ladies over at The Fictionators, for always encouraging me and putting up with my last minute changes and late postings.**

**The ladies over at Rob Attack for showcasing Izzy, the other person in this story, LOL.**

**And most importantly, you guys. You blew me away with your love of this story. It was more than I ever thought possible. Interacting with you has been the absolute best part of this entire thing. I've loved everything you've said and I must tell you, I'm floored by the amount of mustache merchandise and crazy pictures you've all found and posted on my wall! Everyone that I didn't reply to, it was only because you signed in as guest or had PM's disabled. but I appreciated every word you sent me.**

**The last few weeks of Deviant's posting, I hit a bump in the road in my RL and being able to share overwhelming ride with you has really taken me through a tough couple of weeks. You'll never know how much I love all of you for what you've given me. It may be a bit before I can answer replies to the epi, but I'll try my best.**

**If you ever want to read anything else by me, put me on alert, I'd be honored. I will be back, I've got something cooking.**

**XOXO Aimee**


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